Now That You're Here
by Ashley055
Summary: The partners head back to Philly, but when a face from Booth's past surfaces to wreck havoc on everything he holds dear, Brennan must find the strength to save the ones they love and keep Booth from crumbling beneath it all. Sequel to When You're Gone.
1. Preface

**Author's Note: Yes, I have finally returned! Your sequel is here! Thank you to those reader's who followed my previous story 'When You're Gone' and persuaded me to continue. This is for you! For this story, I have three goals: (1) Create a deeper, more intricate plot line (2) Delve deeper into those original characters who, up until now, are simply faces with a name (3) Update more frequently. Now for those of you who remember how sadly inconsistent updates were previously, please try not to jump squealing out of your seats. I'll try my very hardest not to disappoint you on that account, but no promises. I do, however, have my story mapped out this time. AND, I have a beta! *Cheers wildly* Thanks Amanda, you're my hero!! Remember, this is a Sequel, so if you haven't read 'When You're Gone', you may be a little lost as there is quite a few characters that are not seen in the series. That said, I hope everyone enjoys!! As always, no copyright infringement is intended. **

**Preface**

Talkin' you down from ledges to stay with me  
I'll touch your sharpest edges  
I'll be the one that holds your hand when you bleed  
Falling off in pieces like you do  
I would hand them back to you

_Suzie McNeil – Broken and Beautiful_

Hours may have past, Brennan did not know. Time, her tears, the roomful of eyes watching them - they held no importance. Everything was insignificant. Everything except him.

At some point her hand had weaved itself into his hair, using its grip to pull him more tightly against her. He, however, had already buried his face so deeply in the crook of her neck and his hands were clutching so firmly at her back that she figured her action had little effect on his relative position to her. It made her feel better though, as if she was actually comforting him and not just sitting there dumbly with tears rolling off her cheeks.

She had always rejected the idea that people could break. Physically, of course, she knew too well that it was very, very possible, but emotionally it was simply illogical. The scarce few people throughout her life who had managed to get close enough to her, would tell her that _she_ had been broken - shattered on that fateful day when her parents decided to embark upon some last minute Christmas shopping. She denied it relentlessly - she had been hurt, not broken. And each time fear would fuel her to push the person away because somewhere deep down she knew it was true, and only people she allowed too close were able to see. Yes, way deep down she knew, yet it was not until this very moment, when her partner was all that held any significance, that she truly believed.

With every one of his shuddery breaths and every single body-wracking sob, she felt an invisible knife cut in further and further until she was sure she'd soon be cut clean in two.

His tearful mumbles had long since become incoherent, but she still made no effort to reassure him that all would be well. They both knew it was over. The danger was gone. They themselves had been the ones to see to that. Instead, the only words she spoke were a reminder that she was there. Always there.

Emotions coursed through her, morphing and entwining until no one of them was distinguishable without the other. She was furious at the people who did this to them - to _him_, terrified that this would change everything he held dear in his life and, admittedly, slightly panicked at the role-reversal of the comforted to the comforter.

He had been silent for quite some time, but for his uneven breaths, so when he finally spoke it startled her back to their position, crumpled on the floor in the front hall. His lips formed one word - his name for her - against the skin of her collarbone in a voice so painfully different from the strong and unbreakable man she knew. A plea. But she had no idea how to fix what had broke.

Desperation quickly consumed her until she was drowning. Her silent tears dissolved into a fit of sobs, spurring his to return. Through his own broken breaths he reminded her to breathe as she tried to choke out apologizes for incidents in which she had no control. Time continued on just as insignificantly as before; all that existed was the other as they shared what little shards of strength they still had until it was impossible to distinguish who it was that was comforting who.

She refused to allow her mind to dwell on what they had come so close to losing that day, for his everything, was her everything now. They were partners; each, essentially, only one half of a whole on their own. Together they made up a single being. And, as it is with anything, when one half breaks, the other is never quite the same.

**A/N: And that's all she wrote! Intrigued? Please review and let me know!**


	2. I'm Going Home

**Author's Note: Thank you for all the fabulous reviews. You make my life!! In the next couple of chapters I'll attempt to explain where this story falls chronologically. (It still confuses me… what with the Zack thing and all… Grr). But anyway, on with the show!! **

I'm going to the place where love  
And feeling good don't ever cost a thing

_Home - Daughtry_

Faces past in a blur as he hurried through the crowded airport, flashing his badge in a no-nonsense sort of way to anyone who dared to give him trouble. He purposely contrasted the excitement bubbling within him with a seemingly serious demeanour, for Seeley Booth was a man of principle and he did his utmost to refrain from taking advantage of his FBI privileges. Whipping out the badge to pass through airport customs and security to meet a friend at her gate, however, was hardly a federal manner, but he was coming to realize that there was very little he wouldn't do for her.

Three weeks. That's how long she'd been gone. Three weeks without smiling at each other over cups of coffee or boxes of midnight take-out. No bickering for the sake of bickering, or simply because it was something the day wouldn't be complete without. No teasing or comfortable silences; the front seat of his car seemed to stretch on forever in its emptiness without her presence there to fill it. God help him, he just missed seeing her face, so when the crowds finally parted, momentarily giving him that anticipated glimpse it took all his strength not to squeal like a little girl.

He ploughed through the crowd, muttering a quick 'excuse me' to the ones he pushed past. Her eyes found him immediately as he came into view and he registered a slight look of surprise cross her face before a wide smile took its place. He matched it with his own as he made his way to the place where she stood waiting.

"What are you doing here?"

"Gee, Bones. I missed you, too." Booth gave her a wink in an attempt to distract her from the fact that he was trying to take the weight of her duffle bag off her shoulder and onto his. As usual, she was unfazed and firmly kept the bag in her possession.

She ignored him. "I thought you started your vacation yesterday."

He shrugged, allowing his hand to drift to its usual place on the small of her back as he began to lead her towards the exit. "Figured I could postpone."

Bones remained silent after this, but Booth noticed the small smile that appeared on her face. She knew that he had waited for her to come home before taking his vacation. What surprised him, though, was that she didn't have a sharp retort to what she normally would consider his overprotective, alpha male need to escort her from the airport to her home. _Oh, well_. Smiling widely over at her, he slung his arm over her shoulders as they made their way out to the car park.

Once they reached his vehicle, Booth ushered her quickly to the passenger's side door and took her bag - ignoring her protests - to the back of the truck himself. He did this with a nonchalance he hoped she didn't notice. A quirk of her eyebrow told him she had, but she got into the car without a word. Booth sighed inwardly as he slid her duffle bag into the truck alongside the suitcase she didn't know was there. Hers. He was hoping to get a bit on their way before she found out something was up. Of course, he knew she'd be extremely happy with their destination given time to process it, though he knew how much she hated surprises. He made his way to his side of the car and slid into his seat hoping that Bones would be courteous enough not to beat the crap out of him while he was driving. He threw on a goofy smile, still pretending nothing was going on. In truth, despite the ass-kicking he was almost certain to receive, he was actually pretty excited about their destination, too. It wasn't until they had pulled out onto the highway that she seemed to decide that it was time for interrogation.

"Booth…." She drew his name out, trying to coerce the secret out of him. Did he miss the moment when she was suddenly and magically able to read him like a book?

"Say, Bones," He struck up the conversation with enthusiasm as though he hadn't heard her at all. "Do you have any freaky bones or artefacts in that bag of yours that need to be dropped off at the lab?"

"No…" She said it in the same way she had spoke his name. She was treading carefully, being cautious until she was no longer in the dark - just like he taught her. "But are you not dropping _me _off at the lab?"

"Nope." Booth smile widened as he clicked on his blinker and pulled onto the freeway which led in a decidedly different direction than both her apartment and the Jeffersonian. He saw her out of the corner of his eye crossing her arms in frustration, that tiny crease making its way between her eyebrows. She knew he was taking her somewhere without her consent, but _he _knew her ego would prevent her from asking where until her genius mind had shuffled through all the possibilities. As he normally found himself in these rare situations when he had the answers and she did not, he was suddenly very cheerful. He refrained from saying anymore, allowing her to ponder her current situation; the only noise he made was the merry tune he whistled as the scenery went flying past.

It was nearly a half an hour later when his partner let out small sound of defeat and looked over at him in surrender.

"Where are you taking me, Booth?" She demanded, gripping, he knew, at the last bits of control she had left in the situation. She was not happy.

He must have been crazy, for only a crazy man would willingly continue to goad Temperance Brennan when a look of pure menace took up residence on her face. "Guess," he said excitedly, throwing his charm smile her way.

"I don't guess," she huffed, leaning back in her seat and redirecting her gaze out her window. Oh, yeah. She was pissed.

"I'll give you a hint," he teased in a sing-song voice. "We're going on vacation."

"Vacation? Booth, I was just on vacation!"

Booth snorted. "Bones, digging up dead people and sleeping on a bed of straw is _not _a vacation."

"Regardless of whether or not you consider it a vacation, that is what I spent _mine _doing. And besides, I'm supposed to be back at the lab tomorrow." She told him pointedly.

He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road, purposely not putting as much importance on this conversation as she seemed to think fit. He missed the bickering… had he mentioned that, yet? "You could use a _normal _vacation, Bones. Some extra time off."

"In case you don't remember, Booth, I had far more than my fair share of time off this summer," she retorted icily.

Booth flinched. She rarely referred to her months spent away in such a matter. Only when she was angry. It was true, she had spent nearly three months away from the lab - her sanctuary - and her beloved squints in favour of being closer to him while he lay bedridden, in a coma, in a hospital close to his family home. As it happened, she ended up becoming quite close to his family, particularly his father, during her time in Philadelphia. It had actually taken her a couple weeks to recover from 'homesickness' when she returned. He decided to pretend she hadn't used those particular words in an effort to rouse some guilt out of him and carried on normally. "Yeah. You were away from the lab for a while and, apparently, are far easier to get along with after you've had a _proper_ vacation." She didn't respond, though he was willing to bet his right arm that she had rolled her eyes at his comment. "Actually," he began, deciding to show her some mercy, "It's funny that you mention your time off this summer."

Bones whirled her head back around to face him, eyes watching him closely for any sign that he might be giving some information away. He took his eyes from the road to throw a smile her way.

"What are you…" She trailed off, narrowing her eyes, surely not willing to allow herself to get excited before she was sure her inkling was correct.

Allowing for a dramatic pause to precede his words, Booth leaned to her as far as the seatbelt restricting him would allow, "Fancy a trip to Philly, Bones?"

Glancing frequently between her and the road, he watched her continue to regard him with hesitation. A few minutes ticked by until he couldn't take it any longer and he raised his eyebrows at her, trying to gauge a reaction - any would be welcome at this point. "Bones?" He asked with a bit of trepidation. Why in the world had he listened to Angela? He _knew _asking Bones would have been the better idea.

She huffed, re-crossing her arms and sitting back angrily in her seat.

"Aw, come on, Bones. I thought it would be nice." He reached over to nudge her shoulder slightly.

"You could have _asked _me." She didn't turn to look at him.

"Yeah, I could have but you probably would have said no, right?" He raised his eyebrows at her again - she knew it was true. "And I thought, being the amazing partner that I am, that I would give you no choice to ensure that you'd come. You love it there, Bones." When he still received no answer he tried again, "It's only for a week."

If there was anything that he truly couldn't stand, besides murderers, the suffering of innocents and all around injustice, it was the silent treatment. Especially from the partner he usually had a hard time getting to _be_ silent. After several long and painful minutes he let out a sigh. "Bones, look, I thought you'd be excited. I'm sorry, at the next exit I'll turn around and go back."

Whipping around to face him, a look of panic crossed her face. "No!" She said it quickly. Too quickly. She had given herself away.

"Bones…" He drew out her name as she had did his before, his smile making its way back onto his face. "Do you _want_ to go?"

"I -" She began, before folding her arms and resuming her no-nonsense stance. "This is not a question of whether I like the idea or not, it is the fact that the decision was made for me. _You _made it for me." She poked him hard in the chest as she said this.

Her words did nothing to dissuade his delight. "You _want _to go. You're _excited._"

"I -" She began again. This time though, she didn't have a spicy retort ready for him so, instead, she huffed and turned to look out her window once more.

Booth chuckled. "Ah, Bones. I missed you." He smiled at her look of disbelief. "I _did,_" he repeated, and held her eyes until she seemed convinced. The soft smile that crossed her face then sent his heart aflutter, something he now admitted to himself actually occurred quite frequently in her presence, though he'd deny it fiercely to anyone who asked.

She said nothing in response, but turned her head back around to watch the passing scenery, her posture decidedly less tense. That smile remained on her face for exactly seven minutes afterwards. He knew this because he timed it. And he also knew without a shadow of a doubt that she _was _anxious to get to Philly to see his family - _their _family - despite her reaction to the fact. And he knew she had missed him, too.

The smile that made its way across his face then lasted for the rest of the journey.

**A/N: Please review!! I'll send you all your own Booth dolls in the mail. Or Hodgins is you prefer…Personally, I can't decide. :P **


	3. Straight To You

**Author's Note: Okay, so after much thought, we're going to play pretend with this story and assume that Booth didn't 'die' and Zack is not Gormogon's apprentice. And references to Season 3 - if any - will just be to add a little flair to the story. So the timeline is wonky, people! (Any of you die-hard readers remember that Gormogon was mentioned in the first story? Oops…) Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers… This is a bit of a filler chapter. Enjoy!**

Now I'm just rolling home  
Into my lover's arms  
This much I know is true  
That God blessed the broken road  
That led me straight to you

That God blessed the broken road  
That led me straight to you

_God Blessed the Broken Road – Rascal Flatts_

_Booth entered the lab in a thoroughly good mood, tossing his keys up in the air and humming merrily to the Christmas song that had been playing on the radio in his car. His happiness was only heightened by the festive decorations that lit up the laboratory, which he knew most of the squints found to be a bit over the top - his partner included - but not even skeletons and psycho killers could stop Angela Montenegro on a mission. A mission, in his presently cheery mood, he found safe to say was well accomplished. _

_The artist in question stood alone atop the platform, while the rest of the squints seemed to have gone off to begin the Christmas festivities. She was decked out in her now famous, sexy elf ensemble that she wore regularly on the days leading up to Christmas but her expression, however, was anything but enthusiastic. Oddly, Booth found her to look sad, an emotion he rarely saw on her. To the untrained eye, it would seem as though Angela was sitting in front of a computer, working intently. Booth, however, saw that she flicked the mouse lazily with the palm of her hand and her eyes were unfocused, as though she was seeing something far different from the screen in front of her. _

_Curious, he redirected himself from the path he began to his partner's office and turned up the steps onto the platform. Angela visibly started when his card beeped and alerted her of his approach. _

_She turned and gave him a smile, "Hey Booth."_

"_Hey Angela." He greeted, making his way over to her. "Thought you'd already be half-wasted and giving those egg-head squints a show, table-dancing to Santa Baby." He joked half-heartedly. _

_Angela laughed. "That was most definitely my intention, believe me. Though tradition has known it to be a pole in past years - not a table." She winked, and he knew she was joking. Though, he did allow himself to laugh at the image of a roomful of geeky squints dropping dead on the floor at seeing the admittedly gorgeous Angela bare it all at the Jeffersonian Annual Christmas Party. _

"_What's going on?" He asked after a moment, when she resumed her game of what looked to be some futuristic version of solitaire. _

_Angela sighed, and silently nodded in the direction of her friend's office. Booth followed her gaze until it fell on Brennan, sitting crossed legged on the floor and, like Angela had been, staring unfocusedly at something across the room. Even from the distance Booth could see that her wide, sapphire-like eyes held unshed tears within them. _

"_What happened?" He whispered, his eyes never leaving his partner._

"_You don't have to worry, it's nothing serious. She got a package from your parents today, though. She just said she needed a minute." Angela paused, she too, he noticed, was staring across the lab at Brennan. _

_Booth's heart sunk. He should have assumed that his family would do something like this, it was just the way they were. Though if he has foreseen it at least he could have warned them to tone it down a bit, or told Bones in advance so she'd have been prepared._

"_It's nice, though," Angela piped up again, "That they did this for her, I mean. But now, looking at her, I can't stop thinking what it must have been like…" She trailed off. _

"_How long has she been like that?" Booth asked._

"_She was sitting there when I came down from the party two hours ago." She answered, her voice a bit shaky._

_Booth placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and gave her a small smile, "Why don't you go back up to the party? I'll take care of her." And as he began to make his way off the platform he couldn't resist adding, "Show those squints the kind of woman they've been missing."_

_Angela laughed._

_Seconds later Booth stood silently in the doorway of Brennan's office, simply watching her. She had allowed her head to fall to one side, as she often did when she contemplated the meaning behind something. Her face though, did not hold that adorably squinty expression he loved so much, her lips pursed, a tiny crease between her eyebrows. Rather, it was one that caused a pang in his chest. Her eyes were wide and child-like; vulnerable. They glimmered slightly in the light with her unshed tears, and her fingers were nervously playing with hem of her jeans. Sitting before her, a good four feet away, was a large, open box. Her gaze was fixated on the shiny, festive paper and curly ribbons that wrapped a pile of gifts that were just visible inside._

_Booth, too, allowed his gaze to linger on the box of garishly wrapped Christmas presents for a few moments before quietly entering the office and sitting on the floor beside her. He remained silent for a long time, waiting for her to speak first. _

_It must have been a good twenty minutes before she let out a soft sigh, allowing her previously tense shoulders to relax. "They are very pretty." _

_Her words surprised him but, then again, many things that came out of her mouth had that effect. He simply nodded his agreement, "Yeah, they are." _

_Again, they fell into silence. Booth knew her well enough to understand, though she probably wouldn't voice much of what she was thinking aloud. It had been a long time since she'd seen so many gifts so loving wrapped, all with her name written on them. He also knew that it was the fact that people cared enough to go to the trouble, rather than the childish idea of having more presents to open, that had his partner so emotional. _

_With a sigh, Booth brought his arm around her shoulders, pulling her gently to lean on his side as they continued to regard the box of presents from their position on the floor. He was pleasantly surprised when she allowed herself to relax against him, though it had been happening far more often since they had returned from Philadelphia nearly four months before. It was still, however, something that was done and never spoken about - they weren't at that point yet. His father's words remained firmly in the back of his mind reminding him that one day, it would be right, and it was that which drove him to quit lying to himself - and her, for that matter - and drop the coined phrase 'guy hug'. It was more than that, and they both knew it. _

_It may have been hours later, Booth had lost all semblance of time sitting there with her, when she pulled away from him and crawled forward, tugging the box back to where they sat. With a child-like excitement lighting her face, she gently picked up the first package and examined it thoroughly, like the scientist in her demanded, before hesitantly removing the paper. _

_Booth sat in wonder, watching the happiness radiate on her face as she opened each one. Twenty-three in total. He thought briefly of having a stern word with his mother who, as usual, went far and beyond what was required of her in her excitement of the holiday season, though he realized soon that he could never go through with it. Though she was still a bit reserved, he knew Bones too well to miss the joy she felt opening each and every gift, even more so at the thought that must have gone into each one. They were all inexplicably _her. _Not one seemed out of place._

_Booth felt a rush of affection for every member of his family for making a point to get to know the person Brennan hid beneath the lab coat, but more importantly, for being wise enough to _see _that there was a person who existed under it who was so worth the effort. Although he'd never breath a word of it to another living soul, he was almost thankful for the time he had spent in a coma, though he wished to take away every ounce of pain anyone had felt in his absence. She had changed during that time. Now, she felt love. And he hoped to God that it would never go away. _

Looking over at his sleeping partner now, he allowed himself a few rare moments to simply watch, unbeknownst to her. Darkness surrounded them now, but the lights of the city were straight up ahead telling him that they were close to home. He wasn't sure he had the heart to drive directly to his parents' house and wake her from her peaceful slumber, especially when it seemed as though she had had very little rest on her three week adventure in Central America. Though, if she did wake, she'd question why they were driving aimlessly around downtown Philly with no apparent destination.

With a sigh and another glance at her sleeping form, he directed his car towards his childhood neighbourhood, anticipating how relaxing the coming week would be. He chuckled quietly to himself, thinking about the scolding he would surely receive from his mother who would question why she had to hear about her son's life through telephone conversations with his partner. Bones was far better at keeping in touch with his family that he was. Evidently, she was quite a chatter. Who would have thought?

Pulling into the driveway of arguably his favourite place in the entire world, he exited the car, grabbing their bags from the back and bringing them into the darkened house. Making his way back to the car, he opened the passenger's side door and, for a moment, silently pondered whether it was worth the broken limbs to risk carrying her inside. With a shake of his head he decided against it, before gently nudging his partner awake.

It took a few good shakes to rouse her, but it was worth it just to see her normally perceptive and all-seeing eyes clouded over with fatigue. "Booth?" She asked, disoriented, her voice thick with sleep.

"Hey there, Sleeping Beauty," He whispered, reaching over her to unbuckle her seatbelt. "Sorry to disturb your slumber, but there's a bed upstairs waiting for you that, I imagine, will be far more comfortable." Even in her sleepy state she managed to find the energy to roll her eyes and swat away the hand that offered her help out of the vehicle.

Booth led the way into the house, motioning with a finger to his lips that the occupants of the home had long-since retired to bed. He made to usher her up the stairs to the room they shared during their infrequent visits, but saw that she had stopped just in front of the doorway, her gaze taking in every inch of the home. He simply watched her curiously for a moment, before the same small smile that graced her face in the car appeared again. Her eyes found his.

"I missed you, too," She said softly, before pushing past him and making her way up the stairs.

**A/N: And that's all folks! Hope you enjoyed the short and the sweet. Some Booths will be present in the next chapter. Review, review, review!**


	4. Once Upon These Days

**Author's Note: Look at that. I'm doing pretty good with this updating quick thing. I'm quite proud of myself actually. Aren't you? Chapter 3 up! As promised, a couple Booths are popping up…though probably not the ones you'd expect. Thanks to Tabitha, my temporary beta. You're fantastic. And also, a couple people were wondering where my songs lyrics went (for those of you who forget, in When You're Gone I began and ended each chapter with song lyrics from the same song). If I get ambitious, I will go back and add some to the already posted chapters and tack them on to the new ones. Cool? Enjoy!!**

Then one day we'll find  
When we're looking back at this time  
Wondering how we've come so far from this  
When we close our eyes

_These Days – Chantal Kreviazuk_

Hannah Bennett was ecstatic. Absolutely ecstatic. And to add to the ecstatic-ness she was thrilled to be able to use her new favourite word to describe it. She had heard her mother use it a few days before while talking to their grandmother. 'This camp has them ecstatic', she had said. And Hannah realized that's exactly what she and Kelsey were - ecstatic, not excited. To the annoyance of her older cousin Maya, she had used the word five times in the last three minutes, but she couldn't help it if that's what she felt.

"But aren't _you_ ecstatic, Maya?" Hannah coaxed, clutching tightly on handle of the duffle bag she was dragging on the sidewalk behind her. She didn't want Maya to be mad at her for the entire trip because they were always partners in dance class and she had assumed they would be at dance camp as well. With a nervous glance over her shoulder, she saw Kelsey and Maya's younger sister Maddie following a few paces behind them. Hannah probably could have convinced Kelsey to be her partner had they been in the same level. What if _nobody_ wanted to be her partner?

"Yes, Hannah, I am." Maya snapped, rolling her eyes. "Now stop talking and hurry up, we need to get to the studio before the bus leaves!"

Hannah let out a sigh of relief realizing that it was only because Maya was in charge that she was being rude. She was taking her responsibility of getting them from Grandma's to Miss Lena's Dance Studio very seriously. In fact, it was the first time she had ever been in charge like this. Usually Maya's older sister Shelby would look after them - she _was _thirteen after all - but this time, Shelby wasn't there. Also, Hannah figured that Maya didn't actually know what ecstatic meant.

"Look! Look! There's the bus!" Called Kelsey excitedly, pointing down the street. "That makes me excatic!"

Hannah rolled her eyes. _Little sisters, _she thought. "No Kelsey, _ecstatic_. You said it wrong. And plus, you know how much I hate it when you steal my words!"

"But I want to be ec-stat-ic, too!" Kelsey pouted, halting to a stop and dropping her backpack onto the sidewalk.

"Now you've done it," Maya muttered under her breath.

"Hey, hey! If it isn't Hannah-banana and Princess Kelsey!" Boomed a voice from across the road.

Hannah whipped around, squinting in the morning sunlight. "Aariz!" She called, nearly running out into the road without checking both ways. A young, dark man waved as he made his was across.

"Be careful, Hannah. We do not want you hurt," he called, unable to help chuckling at her enthusiasm, which was closely matched by her sister's. A couple in a passing car stared out at him a second longer than was polite and he quickly turned his face away. Normally he would not have paid it any attention; he was used to it, he had been Muslim all his life.

"Hello, ladies," he pretended to tip a non-existent hat, as he stepped onto the sidewalk beside them, making them all giggle.

"What are you doing here, Aariz?" Kelsey asked, surprising him. She usually was too shy to speak when he was near, but her cute little smile and wide chocolate brown eyes tugged at his heart so much so, that he was just as fond of her as Hannah, the chatter-box.

A fondness, he learned, that he must push past in favour of a larger, more important purpose.

"I have actually come for you," he explained, trying hard not to feel sadness at their looks of disappointment.

The older of the two he did not know spoke up with an air of authority, "We can't. We have to catch that bus." She pointed down the street to the Dance Studio where there was, in fact, a large yellow bus waiting. It took a great deal of effort not to narrow his eyes.

"You must be Maya Booth. And Maddie? Yes?" Aariz asked, even though he'd already known for months. This was, after all, the first time he had met them in person and he did have a part to play. He stuck out his hand to the older one, giving her the respect she seemed to think she deserved for being the oldest. She would be his biggest problem, this one.

"Yes." She told him, tentatively shaking his hand. "How did you know?"

"Your dad told me. Jared, yes? He sent me to pick you girls up and bring you back home."

"Why?!" All four of them shrieked, attracting some attention from the crowd of young dancers and parents down the street. _No, that would not do. _

Quickly, he ushered them across the street and to the opposite side of where his car was parked, shielding them from view.

"Something has happened. They need you at home for a while, and then they will drive you to your camp later tonight. You will not miss it, I promise." He smiled at them.

The girl named Maya narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "How do you know my Daddy?"

Hannah spoke up for him, "Because he's friends with _my _Daddy. They work together, right Aariz? Aariz comes over for dinner sometimes. He's not some stranger, Maya." Her hands were on her hips, obviously offended by her cousin's scepticism.

"Then how come he talks funny?" The other one shot back.

Hannah gasped. "Maya! You don't say that! He's from a different country, our voices sound funny to him, too!"

Maya sighed, her shoulders sagging as she gave in.

It seems like his _Hannah-banana_ had done all the hard work for him.

"It's okay, Hannah," he patted her on the shoulder. "You girls really have to get in the car now," he glanced at his watch, whistling for effect, "we are late."

"Is something wrong with Daddy?" Kelsey asked him as he buckled her and the other young one in.

"No, no. Do not worry about a thing, Princess Kelsey. Everything is fine." He reached over, pinching her little cheek and eliciting a squeal.

"But we'll still get to go to dance camp with Miss Lena, right?" Asked the younger Booth girl, speaking for the first time.

"Of course, of course." He quietened her, as he climbed in behind the wheel. "Do you really think I would let you miss that?" He smiled at her through his rear-view mirror. She had the same chocolate brown eyes as the others.

"Are we going back to Grandma's?" Hannah asked from her seat beside him.

_Did children ever stop asking questions?_ "Yes. Yes we are," he lied.

"Good!" Hannah clapped her hands excitedly, she turned to look at the others in the back. "Maybe Uncle Seeley and Tempe are awake now!"

At the sound of that name, he gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white, his blood boiling in his veins.

"They just came into town last night," She continued telling him. "But Mommy wouldn't let us wake them when we got to Grandma's for breakfast. Uncle Seeley is my Mommy's older brother, and their Daddy's younger brother," she pointed to her cousins. "Did you know he was here?"

Did he _know_?

"Yes, I do." He smiled over at her. "I've been waiting to meet your uncle for a _long _time."

**A/N: Hmmm. Confused? I hope intrigue is overpowering confusion! Have I ever told you how much I love all my lovely readers? Yes, I'm flattering you. Now don't you feel the need to press that little review button? You know you do…**


	5. Home To Me

**Author's Note: Yes, yes, I'm a horrible person… even after I promised to update so quickly.. Okay. Now that that's over with, on with the chapter. This is a bit of a filler chapter. The good stuff with come later. Love you all!**

It feels like home to me, it feels like home to me  
It feels like I'm all the way back where I come from  
It feels like home to me, it feels like home to me  
It feels like I'm all the way back where I belong

_Feels Like Home – Chantal Kreviazuk_

Brennan awoke feeling more refreshed than she had in months. The bedroom window to her left had been thrown open last night in an effort to get some air circulating in the stuffy room. Now a cool, spring breeze filtering in creating the perfect temperature for snuggling comfortably under the layers of blankets. With a sigh she shifted, knowing full well that she had far overslept her usual rising time, but was far too content to care. It wasn't until the noise sounded again that she realized she hadn't awoke by chance.

A squeaky floorboard right outside the bedroom door.

She bolted upright, startling her partner next to her who pushed himself up on his elbows from where he had been sleeping comfortably on his stomach. "Bones?" He murmured, an edge of worry in his tone.

"Fine!" She answered his unspoken question as she jumped out of bed. "Wake up call," she threw over her shoulder as she made her way out of the room.

"What?" He called, obviously annoyed, but she was already flying down the stairs.

It was, indeed, a wake up call. Her favourite kind in fact. During her last stay at the Booth residence she had not quite been herself. In fact, tearing up in front of a room full of people had become a near constant occurrence. Even now she cursed the weakness she had willingly displayed, though she knew if there was any group of people with whom she was safe in her vulnerability it was her partner's family. Joe Booth, especially. It was he who somehow knew which nights she couldn't sleep, it was he who alerted her of his own wakefulness using the squeaky floorboard outside her bedroom door, and it was he who had held her hand as she cried.

As she rounded the corner, she was halted in her greeting to the occupants of the kitchen by the wild gesticulations of Joe and her partner's brother Jared. Joe seemed to be gesturing for her to be quiet and move out of sight at the same time, while Jared was simply making a cut throat motion as subtly as he possible could, for he was conversing with his mother at the same time, who it seemed, remained unaware of Brennan's presence.

"I swear if either of you wake up that girl after the long trip she's just had I will beat you both down with a wooden spoon." Linda threatened from her place at the opposite counter, where she looked to be, as usual, cooking up a storm.

"Ma, I wasn't even upstairs!" Brennan smirked as Jared argued and, finally getting the hint, she stepped back around the corner and into the shadows.

"No you weren't, but your father definitely was. And don't you think for one second that I can't tell when you boys are conspiring against me. It's been happening since the day you were born!"

Brennan smiled from where she stood, taking a moment to relish in the comfort she felt in being back in this home again. She was used to Linda's near constant admonitions of her family - particularly the men - but couldn't blame her considering she was constantly subjected to the witty, arrogant and instinctive minds that each of the Booths owned and proudly flaunted. Linda was the odd man out and over the years she had to have worked up some kind of defence against that stupid charm smile. Is was either that or get down on her knees and admit that she was completely and totally at their mercy, which underneath it all, Brennan knew she was.

"No one's going to wake her, dear," Joe assured his wife with such sincerity that Brennan immediately questioned whether it was possible that she had imagined the floorboard creak. Taking a chance, she peeked around the corner and into the kitchen where Joe quickly reassured her with a teasing wink before gesturing her back into the shadows. As she pulled back she was startled out of the moment by a presence directly behind her.

"You're lurking, Bones." He said directly into her ear, loud enough to make her jump and let out a noise of surprise, his silent approach reminding her just how good a Ranger he must have been. Immediately, Linda was aware of her presence and both Joe and Jared cringed against the onslaught they knew was about to come.

Without a second thought, Brennan let out a frustrated groan and whipped around to deliver a well-deserved punch to her partner's stomach.

"Ow!" Came Booth's strangled moan as he doubled over, clutching his abdomen. "What the hell was that for?"

"I was trying to be quiet!" Brennan added a smack to his shoulder, for good measure.

"Yeah, obviously. And you were being all creepy, listening to their conversation-"

"They didn't want your mother to know I was here!" She cut him off, unnecessarily irritated, she knew, but far too excited to have fallen so quickly back into the routine she had missed so much the past few weeks.

"Why in the world -" This time, her partner was cut off by his mother's gasp from the kitchen.

"You woke her up didn't you? Even. After. I. Told. You. Specifically -" Each word was punctuated by a smack to one of the men with a dish towel.

"Whoa, Ma, easy -" Jared attempted to get out as he tried to pull out of the line of fire.

Booth immediately dissolved into a fit of laughter, which it seemed, hurt his injured stomach even more. Brennan's own laughter soon followed as she watched her partner's expression shift from pain to delight with each vibration of his body.

Eventually, Linda seemed to have decided they had received enough punishment and came forward to pull both her and Booth into the same hug, her dish towel still firmly clutched in her hand.

"I missed you both! I'm so glad you're here!" She squealed in a very Angela-like way, before she began peppering her son's face with kisses.

While Booth unsuccessfully attempted to detach himself from his mother's embrace, Jared made his way to Brennan and scooped her up into a hug that caused her feet to momentarily leave the floor. "Blue!" He chuckled delightedly as he squeezed her more tightly in his already bone-crushing hug.

Just as she was wondering for the umpteenth time what exactly it was with Booth's and nicknames, Joe greeted her with his own nickname for her, releasing her from Jared's grip and pulling her into a much gentler, but no less loving embrace. "Missed you, love," He whispered this, for he, like her, preferred subtlety when it came to feelings and emotions.

The greetings continued for a while, as the patio door slid open revealing Booth's sister Kayla, her husband Matt, Jared's wife Jen and their daughter - and Booth's goddaughter - Shelby.

The ringing of a cell phone pulled everyone out of their welcoming embraces. Brennan's eyes meet Booth's warily, as they were prone to do given the possibly of an unwelcome call, and they joined the others in reaching for their phone. It was Matt this time who came up the winner, excusing himself from the room at the name on the caller ID.

"Aariz! Hey buddy, what can I do for you?" He stepped out onto the deck, sliding the patio door shut behind him.

"Aariz? That sounds foreign," Brennan commented conversationally, as she perched herself on the edge of the kitchen counter. "Middle eastern?"

"Yeah," Kayla answered. "This new guy Matt's been working with. He's just a kid - nineteen or twenty - but apparently he's brilliant. Matt's been looking out for him, you know? I guess some of the other guys aren't really treating him that well and Matt, well, he's got a big heart." She smiled fondly, as she joined Linda in making some breakfast for the group.

"Have we heard from Vanessa lately?" Booth asked, stealing a slice of cheese from his mother and popping it into his mouth.

"Yup. Yesterday. She's bull-fighting in Spain. Olé!" Jared mimicked a matador by waving the dish cloth, that was previously used as a weapon against him, in the air.

"She's what!?" Booth exclaimed, but refused to wait for an answer. "You're allowing

this?" He demanded of his father. "She could die!"

Brennan chuckled, as always, enjoying when Booth's protective, overbearing nature was directed at someone other than herself. In this case, his youngest sister - the baby of the family - who had spent the last three months backpacking through Europe with a friend.

"You're laughing at me?" Booth turned his glare on her. "Are you kidding me?"

"Relax, Booth. She'll be fine." Brennan tried to comfort him, though she couldn't completely keep the amusement out of her eyes.

"Vanessa is not _you, _Bones. She isn't crazy! She doesn't cliff dive and rock climb -"

"I've never actually cliff dived before -"

"- and do all these crazy, _psychotic _things for sport. She's gonna get killed!" His volume had rose to the point where his voice was half an octave higher than normal and, as usual, he was thoroughly amusing the entire group with his fit.

"Booth. Really, it's not that scary. It's actually an amazing experience and I'd really prefer if you didn't call me crazy -"

"What?!" He was in her face now. Noses practically touching. The way he did when he was doing his best to intimidate her. Though, by now, they both knew that he was fighting a losing battle. "You've done it before? Are you serious?"

Brennan sighed, rolling her eyes. "Booth, I didn't even know you then, how in the world can you be pissed off at me for something -"

"Because you could have _died_! Bones -"

"Relax, Seel," Jared interrupted, giving his little brother a pat on the shoulder. "Vanessa didn't say a word about bull-fighting," he smiled that cheeky Booth smile, "Just kidding."

The kitchen erupted in to laughter at Booth's reaction, but maybe if there hadn't been so much commotion in the room, maybe someone would have noticed Matt out on the deck, pale as a sheet, sinking to his knees, head in hands, phone clattering to the ground.

**A/N: Dun, dun DAAA! I'm sure you can all guess what happened there. Reviews make the world go 'round! **


	6. Hurry, I'm Falling

**Author's Note: I know, I know, I'm horrible. Let's skip this part just once. Moving on to more exciting things…. I'm so excited for this chapter. And future ones. Okay, so I think I'm just excited for the whole thing in general. I hope you enjoy! Oh, and as for the most recent episode…The Finger in the Nest or whatever, did anyone else think Zack when Brennan was giving her 'goodbye' to the dog? Or is this just me missing Zack a ridiculous amount and reading WAY too much into it? I tend to do that… Anyway, on with the chapter! As always, thanks a million for past reviews… they make my life! And thanks to Tabitha for editing this…. You're my favourite! Love! **

Prison gates won't open up for me  
On these hands and knees I'm crawlin'  
Oh, I reach for you  
Well I'm terrified of these four walls  
These iron bars can't hold my soul in  
All I need is you  
Come please I'm callin'  
And oh I scream for you  
Hurry I'm fallin', I'm fallin'

_Savin' Me - Nickelback_

The mall. How innocent a place it seemed. Safe, even. He could tell that not one of them expected anything out of the ordinary. In fact, they expected nothing but an enjoyable lunch out with the family. But that wasn't all that would happen. Not even close. It was going to be bad, this much he knew. Though he hadn't been told any specifics. His job was to get them there. That was all. He wished he could warn them. Send them back to safety. But he couldn't. Even worse things would happen if he did…

…

Joe Booth loved every person in his already large and ever-growing family. He would stop at nothing to make sure each was not only safe, but happy as well. But there was something about this girl, who technically wasn't even a part of the family - _yet_, a voice in the back of his mind offered - that he loved more than life itself. She was bickering with his son again. A constant occurrence. He could tell that both were enjoying it, more so than usual, as they had been a part for a few weeks. Joe chose to remain quiet, as did the rest of his family, for there was nothing any of them liked better than intense bickering sessions. His son really had met his match with this one.

"Booth, you're being ridiculous."

"No, no I'm not. It makes sense. Think about it a second, Bones…"

"I'm not listening to you anymore."

"Ah, come on. Now who's being ridiculous?"

"My opinion on the matter hasn't changed. I still think it's you who's being ridiculous. I believe I said that already."

"Bones!"

This continued in much of the same manner as they entered a nice, little restaurant and were seated at a table along side a full wall of glass, from which they could look down at the many shoppers scurrying around below.

"This is nice, Matt. How did you hear of this place?" Linda asked pleasantly, taking a seat alongside her husband. "It's not exactly nearby," She added.

Joe turned to his son-in-law, pleasantly curious as well. Matt however, was glancing over his shoulder and appeared not to have heard.

"Matt?"

When this still didn't serve to rouse his attention, his wife elbowed him from the side.

"What?" He snapped at her, unreasonably angry.

Joe watched his daughter's cheeks flush slightly, knowing that Matt hardly took that tone with anyone. In fact, he'd never heard anything of the sort leave his lips until that moment, which was saying something, as he had watched the boy grow up from a small child. Matt was something of a pushover, while Kayla always had to take the reins when it came to things like punishing their children.

Matt looked immediately ashamed of himself and glanced guiltily at the widened eyes around the table. "Sorry," he murmured, and then quickly changed his expression into something more cheery. "Did I miss something?"

"Mom was just wondering how you'd heard of this place," Kayla asked, feigning normalcy, but Joe could hear the tentativeness in her voice.

"Oh. Um," Matt looked down at the table and fiddled with his napkin. "Work." He stated, making eye contact with Linda and then immediately looking back over his shoulder. It was almost as if he was expecting someone. Someone that wasn't necessarily invited…

…

God, was he crazy? Had he really deluded himself into thinking that he actually had a hope in pulling this off? He had always been a terrible actor. So terrible, in fact, that the one time he had given it a try in high school, he'd been the butt of everyone's jokes for the rest of the year. God, and why did that even matter now? Was he seriously reminiscing over past high school pain when he should be focusing on the most intense pain he had ever felt in his life? Pain that he was feeling now, in fact. He had never been so bone-chillingly terrified. As though one wrong move, one misstep, one _breath _could cost him everything. He had never been even close to this kind of situation before. Ever. He was a computer programmer for Christ's sake. He did nothing to deserve this. _They _had done nothing to deserve this. He couldn't even begin to comprehend why this was happening. What had _he_ done? Why _his_ family?

He knew he should be telling Seeley. He _wished _he could tell him. But he couldn't. That was the rule. The one rule that was essential to everything being well again. Seeley was to be taken by surprise. He was to be unprepared. God, he hoped he was doing the right thing…

…

There was a strange tingling in her stomach. Hunger, she immediately deduced. But it couldn't be that. She rarely ate breakfast, and Booth had practically forced a extra large, greasy takeout meal down her throat on their drive to Philadelphia the night before - _"Bones, don't try and tell me you haven't been eating anything but rice and bugs for the last three weeks…" - _so she couldn't possibly be _too _hungry yet.

Maybe this was the odd idea of having insects fluttering in one's stomach during significant moment, like the ones Angela always talked about. But that wasn't right either. She was almost positive that Ange had told her it only happened when the person in question was nervous or extremely excited. She was feeling neither at the moment. She was happy, though. Maybe she'd call Angela and ask her what it all meant.

Brennan decided, for once, to forget her worries and just relax. She turned her attention to Booth who was happily recounting a story from childhood - for her benefit apparently - that involved himself, Jared and Matt - who had been a childhood neighbour - pretending to be pirates and stealing all the vegetables from an elderly lady's garden.

"-and then she chased us out of the yard with a baseball bat!" Booth exclaimed, both him and Jared laughing themselves into tears. Linda was looking slightly angered at that fact that Joe had apparently not informed her of the incident, and everyone else looked thoroughly amused. Except Matt. Matt looked like he wasn't listening at all. The insects in her stomach gave a particularly large jolt. What did that mean?

"No, Seeley. It was a broom. She chased us with a broom. And you wanted to fight her with your sword and we practically had to carry you out of there-"

"No it was a baseball bat, because I remember wondering what in the world she had a baseball bat for. I mean she was just a creepy old lady who lived alone and no one ever liked her -"

"Seeley!" Linda gave him a admonishing glare.

"No. I swear it was a broom. Matt, it was a broom right?" Jared asked.

Matt's head whipped around to face them, "What?" He looked like a deer caught in headlights.

Brennan's insects felt like they were having a rather large party against the walls of her abdomen.

"Broom or baseball bat?" Booth asked impatiently. He obviously wasn't feeling anything out of the ordinary.

"Uh, baseball bat?" Matt answered as if he was asking a question, rather than giving his actual opinion on the fact. Booth didn't notice.

"Yes!" He exclaimed, slamming his fist on the table, "I told you -" Her partner's merriment continued rather vocally, and his arrogance may have annoyed her under normal circumstances. Right now, however, her attention was on someone else.

She felt like she was going to be sick. In an unusual way. It was feeling one got before they were going to be sick, yet somehow she knew she wasn't sick at all. She couldn't stop watching Matt. He was jumpy. Every little noise seemed to startle him. The clinking of dishes, the burst of laughter from other diners in the restaurant, children playing noisily in the mall below…

Why didn't Booth notice? Surely this was something that she would normally remain oblivious to, and he would detect immediately. She hoped nothing was wrong. Maybe something happened at work, and that's what the call had been about.

Something as simple as that shouldn't have captured her attention so fully, and yet, she couldn't quite concentrate on anything else.

"-I do not. Bones, do I do that? Bones?"

Brennan was startled out of her close-watch by a hard poke. She turned her attention to her partner, quickly trying to hide her thoughts away.

It was too late. He noticed.

…

Taking in her blanched face he was immediately on edge. "What?"

Her eyes widened, she was upset with herself for not hiding it well. "Nothing."

"Bones."

"Nothing."

"_Tell me_." Did she not understand how much she was able to make him worry?

"_Nothing._"

"Bones -"

"_Booth._"

They stared at each other silently, not simply ignoring the other people in the room, but honestly forgetting that they were there. Like they always did when something was wrong. And even when it wasn't, his thoughts amended themselves.

He looked at her. Studied her. He knew the contours of her face, the markers of every one of her emotions. Something wasn't right, and if she wouldn't tell him what it was, then he would figure it out for himself.

Her eyes were begging him to let it go, but he still didn't turn away. Not until he made sure she was okay. He looked past her slight annoyance and took in that crease between her eyebrows, and the way her lips were slightly parted. She was confused. There was something she didn't understand, and it was bothering her.

"Booth, please…" She whispered it, pleaded with him to let it go.

He kept his eyes locked on hers for one last, long moment - just in case - before turning back and entering the rest of the world once more. An awkward silence descended on the table and he cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Uh -" What had he been talking about again? Shit.

Bones came to his rescue. "Um, you don't do what, Booth?"

Everyone around the table seemed to get the hint, and dropped their curious expressions. He sighed internally. He forgot how intense he and Bones could be.

…

Brennan was still battling with herself as they were leaving the restaurant nearly a half hour later. She was annoyed with Booth. Very annoyed. She knew that he was just protective, and had honestly thought something was wrong. Truth be told, however, she didn't even really know what had happened. She didn't exactly trust her instincts, nor did she 'go with her gut'. She wasn't even certain that's what had been happening to her. Had it been a gut feeling? How could it have been if she didn't even believe they existed?

It was probably just her first assumption. Something was going on at Matt's workplace. Other people had trouble at work, too. Granted, most usually not to the extent that her and Booth encountered on a daily basis, but it still happened. If that's all it was, then why couldn't she stop worrying about it?

She vaguely heard Booth offer to quickly run down to the lower level to pick something up for his father. The rest of the group had come to a stand still, waiting for him, but her thoughts were far away. She was brought back to reality a few moments later when a soft hand touched her arm. She turned to see Linda looking at her, concerned.

"You sure you're all right, Sweetheart?" She asked with a small smile.

"Yes, I'm fine." Brennan forced a smile, annoyed that this little, insignificant issue was taking up residence in her mind. She had been so excited to spend time with the Booth's…

Out of the corner of her eye there was a flash. Silver. Down on the lower level. She saw Booth, flipping through a magazine as he waited in line to pay. Another flash. Her eyes found the source. A gun barrel. Half concealed by a jacket. It belonged to a man who was walking close by Booth. Too close.

The butterflies in her stomach were beyond anything she had ever felt before. The jacket was opened further. The gun was revealed more fully. The man was walking in Booth's direction…

Everything else faded into nothing. All she saw was Booth. In an instant her body was in motion, and she was moving faster than she ever had before. People, objects, anything in her way was removed with no second thought. There were yells from the group she left behind her. Did they see it to? Did they know what was about to happen?

She flew down the stairs, vaguely wondering if her feet were touching the floor at all. She barely had a chance to take in her partner's startled expression at the sight of her, before she tackled him to the ground and shots rang through the air.

**A/N: -insert suspenseful music here- Please review!!**


	7. The Greatness You Are

**Author's Note: Sorry!! I know, I know, I'm a horrible human being. I promise that this chapter has been done for a long time, but I was waiting for it to be edited. My Beta has been extremely busy lately, but she's too amazing to give up. Love ya Tabs! Anyway, thanks for the reviews! On with the chapter…**

All the lights on and you are alive  
But you can't point the way to your heart  
So sublime, when the stars are aligned  
But you don't know  
You don't know the greatness you are

Cause Blue Eyes  
You are destiny's scene  
Cause Blue Eyes  
I just wanna be the one

_Blue Eyes – Cary Brothers_

He registered the screams. He heard the commotion of running feet and the orders of security men. He understood that he had nearly been shot at close range. Meaning, he had nearly died. He should have been in a panic, should have been up on his feet barking out orders, should have been ensuring his family's safety. Instead, he took a few seconds to block everything out, and focus on nothing but his partner. She was still lying atop him, her body still pressing him down. Her wide, terrified eyes were desperately seeking answers in his and though he had no answers, he couldn't pull his gaze from hers.

It was when the large, inflatable cartoon character - the one who took the bullet that was meant for him - deflated to the point where it could no longer keep upright, and slowly floated down atop them, concealing them from view, did they allow themselves to relax. Bones let out a shaky sigh, momentarily allowing her forehead to lean against his shoulder. Relieved. And he, risking a broken limb under normal circumstances, allowed his arms to briefly embrace her. Thankful.

Once more she pulled back, and her cerulean eyes became his whole world. This had been happening far too frequently lately. Moments. Their gazes seemed to hold each others for a few seconds longer each time. He couldn't help it, though. He wasn't sure if he wanted to. For each time it happened he discovered something new about her. This time, that even the mighty Temperance Brennan, the woman who put all others - most often people she had never met - before herself, who had a drive and determination and passion unlike any he had ever seen, liked to hide away from the rest of the world. Neglecting responsibilities, others and even her own conscience in order to exist simply for one other person.

It seemed like they had been tucked under their 'blanket', away from the world for hours. Time was so insignificant when he was with her. Really, he imagined, it was probably only a few seconds since the gun had went off.

She sighed heavily once more, letting her eyes drift shut and her forehead to fall gently against his own. A tear fell from her cheek to his. Her eyes opened to track its progress down to his chin before she lifted a finger to softly brush it away. Then her eyes slowly rose to meet his once more, so close that her eyelashes were tickling his own. Her exhale became his inhale. Their hearts were beating rapidly against each other, from adrenaline, fear and their unsettling, but somehow calming proximity. And for one wild second, he thought that she might kiss him.

Hethought that _he_ might kiss _her. _

A blink and it was over. Too soon she pulled away, helping him up and pulling him back into reality. After escaping their inflatable tent, his heart sunk and he felt a headache already in the works. People were everywhere - running, hiding, screaming. It was utter chaos. Chaos he had to control.

The shooter was long gone. Even without a good look at his face, he knew this to be true. But he still had to bring some semblance of control to the obscenely large group of people. It was his only hope in figuring out what the hell was going on. With a quick glance at his partner, who gave him a nearly imperceptible nod, he pulled his gun out and with a quick glance up, shot a bullet into the air. More screams resulted, everyone ducked. The chaos increased tenfold. _Bad idea._ Taking a new approach, he pulled himself up onto the counter of the newspaper stand he had just been at and took a deep breath.

"FBI! EVERYBODY FREEZE!" He whipped out his badge for added effect. This successfully brought much of the crowd to a pause, but others ignored him completely. "HEY!"

Even in the midst of everything, Bones still took the time to look amused at his failure to control the masses. She hopped up onto a nearby table as cupped her hands to her mouth. "FBI!" She bellowed, "ANYONE WHO ATTEMPTS TO LEAVE WITH BE ARRESTED IMMEDIATELY!"

"_Bones-_" He hissed.

"What?" She shrugged, delicately jumping off her podium, "It worked."

It was true, as much as he hated to admit it, Bones had done a better job than he had. "Er- alright, then." He cleared his throat. "Hey you!" He called to a nearby security man. "Man the doors. Nobody leaves. And get someone on those security tapes. I want to know who did this."

Turning back to the mass of people, he felt a pang in his chest at the terror displayed clearly on every face. "Everybody just stay calm. We will have the situation under control very shortly. You don't have to worry, the shooter is long gone by now, there is no immediate danger." With one last long look at the crowd that he barely helped to console, he too jumped to the ground to join his partner.

"What now?" She asked, invading his personal space, as she often did in times of crisis.

"Now we check on the family."

She nodded and allowed him to lead the way back up the stairs. Why? Why did this have to happen here? When he was with his family, these things - his _job - _was something distant, something that wasn't real. He lived for himself, he lived for them. And that was all. But now, now he had to be Agent Booth again. And Bones had to be Dr. Brennan. And they had to solve a crime.

His family had never even met Agent Booth before. He hadn't wanted them to. As if he had a choice now…

As he neared the top of the stairs and caught sight of the large group that was his family, his stomach dropped. They were all crowded around someone who lay on the floor. His throat tightened, his heart pounded wildly, and he raced as fast as he could to get to them. He felt, rather than saw, Bones' confusion as she hurried to keep up with him.

Booth practically pushed his brother out of the way in his haste. He feel to his knees beside her. "Mom…" He choked out.

She sat there, with his father firmly planted at her side, rubbing soothing circles on her back. She was clearly in pain, the look on her face made that obvious, but nonetheless she gave him a shaky smile.

"It's okay, honey. I'm okay. It's just my ankle. Do what you need to do and we'll worry about me later." His mother reached over to touch his cheek.

Booth glanced down at her ankle, which had turned an angry purplish colour, and felt tears spring to his eyes. "Mom…" He murmured again.

"Sweetheart, it's fine." She said firmly. "I promise you. Please, please just do what you need to do."

For a moment, he let himself forget everything. Forget the shooter, forget his duty. He looked at his mother, being so brave - for his sake only - and couldn't find any words to say. He leaned over to her, pressing a lingering kiss to her temple. "Everything will be okay, Mom. I'll just get Bones to look at it. She'll know what to do."

He looked to his side, expecting to see his partner, but she wasn't there. He turned back, positive that she had followed closely behind him up to the second level.

She stood a few feet away, face as pale as he'd ever seen it, eyes glassy with tears, frozen in place. Booth felt his heart stop again.

"Bones?" He called, uncertainly. She was looking at his mother, she saw what had happened. She had to have heard that he wanted her help.

She didn't answer.

"Bones?" He spoke a little bit louder. Again she didn't move. She didn't react.

Worried, he rose to his feet and tentatively walked towards her. "Bones…" He repeated, reaching out to touch her arm.

In an instant she came back to life, taking a shaky breath and her eyes filling with tears. "No…" She murmured to him, cringing away from his touch. "Don't." She was speaking to him, but her eyes were still glued to his injured mother, crumpled on the floor.

"What is it?" He asked, though he honestly didn't expect an answer.

"Sweetheart. It's okay. I promise you, it's okay." His mother gently reassured Bones, wide, pain filled eyes imploring her to see that what she said was true.

"No…" Bones murmured again, shaking her head fiercely from side to side.

"Love…" His father took his try, rising to his feet.

"No!" Booth jumped at the sound of her anger.

"Bones -"

Suddenly she whipped her head around to face him, "I did that." She stated firmly, pointing to his mother. "I pushed her out of the way. I did that to her." She spoke in that partially detached tone that she often got when her emotions were so close to breaking through the surface.

Booth felt his reaction and immediately regretted it. His eyes widened and he looked from her to his mother and back again. He watched his partner's anguish increase. She took another shaky breath and stepped further away from him, looking away from the scene before her.

"Bones…" He whispered, taking a step towards her, closing the distance between them, which she immediately tried to undo by stepping back once more. He reached forward and grabbed her arm, pulling her close. "It's okay - hey," bending his knees slightly he made himself eye level with her, "Look at me…"

The seconds ticked by, but she kept her gaze firmly planted on the ground. He watched her closely, waiting. She always reached out in the end. No sooner had that particular thought entered her mind, that she took a deep breath and slowly looked up at him. Ashamed.

"I'm sorry." Her voice broke, but she spoke quietly enough to ensure that no one else would hear. No one else ever saw her like this.

"Bones, it was an accident," He reached a finger up to wipe away the tears she shed for his eyes only. "No one's going to blame you - it was an _accident._"

She kept her eyes on his for a moment, saying nothing. She was searching for a reason to believe what he was saying, and when she softly shook her head and looked away again, he knew she hadn't found it.

After a moment she cleared her throat. "There's a lot to do."

In other words, he thought, conversation over.

"I'm going to get something to help her," she told him, immediately walking away.

"Okay, I'm just going to -" He pointed over his shoulder and, realizing he was talking to no one, let his voice trail off, "-talk to security." He sighed. Turning, he walked back to his family. He leaned down to give his mother another kiss before saying, "Bones will help. She's the best, Ma." Booth wasn't sure why he said that. It was as though he was defending her - he _needed_ to defend her. And from his family - odd.

"Honey, I _know_." His mother must have sensed the defensive waves floating off of him. He truly couldn't help it. "She just saved your life. I think I can deal with a sprained ankle." Again, she forced a smile through her obvious pain.

Booth nodded, grateful for her understanding. His father's expression mirrored that of his mother's - though, with maybe a tad more worry worked in - and Booth knew that no one was angry. With him or with Bones. Just worried. That was all.

"Booth!" He could tell without even looking that this was Bones in the peak of her irritation. He looked down the hall to see her standing toe to toe with what seemed to be a shop clerk. God, did he feel sorry for that shop clerk. God help any man who received this end of Bones' frustration.

"What?" He called timidly.

"Will you please tell this _man, _that I am with you so that he will let me into his store, where I can get ice for your," She looked at the man pointedly, "_injured _mother."

"Well if you maybe had some identification on you, or even a _gun_-" The clerk began to fight back. Seriously, God help him.

"Hey, buddy, show the lady some respect, she's with me." He whipped out his badge and the store clerk begrudgingly allowed Bones into his store.

"So you _are _FBI." Another man with a large build and a receding hairline, emerged at the top of the stairs and made his way to Booth. "Please tell me this is not how you work on a daily basis, because if it is I think I should be more worried about the safety of the citizens of this country."

"Excuse me?"

The man extended his hand, "Bert Copeland. Head of Mall Security."

"Special Agent Seeley Booth," He returned the shake, "Sorry, things have been a little crazy."

Booth watched Copeland take in the scene of his mother on the ground, and he gave an understanding nod. Booth looked back at them too, seeing that Bones was now back and tending to his mother's ankle with a large, awkward bag of ice.

"This is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan." He gestured back to her. "Give her anything she needs."

"Yes sir." Copeland then seemed to struggle with himself. "May I ask what it is that's going on here?"

"Trust me, I have no idea."

The man gave another nod, looking slightly more worried about the present situation.

"Listen, have you got a chance to look at those tapes?"

"Yeah, I had my boys look at them immediately. We have a clear shot of him. Come with me, I'll let you have a look at it." Copeland beckoned him to follow, and with an unsure glance over at his mother, Booth received a nod from his partner ensuring him that she had things under control.

Copeland found the closest of his security men, "Rick, you have the shot?"

Rick nodded, handing him a close-up of the shooter.

"Recognize him?" Copeland asked as Booth took the picture in his hands.

Booth sighed. "No." The picture was surprisingly clear, displaying a Middle Eastern man, tall and of a medium build, but Booth was certain he had never seem him before. And he was exceptionally good at remembering faces. "Is he still here?" He asked, though he was sure he already knew the answer.

"Long gone." Copeland answered.

"Right." He'd show the picture to Bones and see if she knew who it was. If, he reminded himself, she was in the right frame of mind to do so. He knew she was good at compartmentalizing, but he rarely saw her so out of sorts. "Listen, is there any way you can figure out who this is?"

"With all due respect Agent, this is a mall - not the Federal Bureau of Investigation."

"Right," Booth repeated, "Okay, I'll send someone to get the tapes. Make sure they go to the Jeffersonian Institute in DC." He turned to go, his mind still not in full cop mode. He wanted to take his mother to the hospital.

"Uh, Agent Booth?" Copeland called, now seeming uncertain of Booth's abilities to run the situation. "What do you want me to do with all these people?" He gestured to the lower level where the shoppers were gathered.

"You can let them go," Booth answered. "And thanks for your help." As a second thought, he pulled out his card and handed it to the security man. "If you find anything, anything at all, please call me."

"Will do, Agent."

Booth let out a heavy sigh before turning back to rejoin his family. When he reached them he took a seat next to Bones on the floor. She was concentrating hard, he could tell, as she gently pressed down on his mother's injured ankle with her fingers.

"Not broken." She told him clinically.

Booth sighed again, looking up from worried face to worried face. They had never seen this side of Bones. Never knew she could hide everything she was feeling. Never knew she could be so cold. _Seem_ cold, he reminded himself. He knew better than anyone why she put up that defence, knew that she was the exact opposite of what everyone seemed to label her.

His eyes reached his mother's last. Her green eyes, so unlike the rest of the family's, were wide and glassy with tears. He knew though, that she was more worried about his partner - and himself, he assumed - than she ever would be about herself. It wasn't just the pain.

"Hospital?" He questioned gently.

"Already called." Bones told him, sitting back against a wall, with one hand still firmly holding the ice bag in place. Finally looking at him, she asked, "Who was it?"

For a brief moment, Booth didn't understand the question. Remembering the paper in his hand, he was pulled back into his present situation. Yup, definitely not in cop mode just yet.

"Not sure," he told her honestly, passing the photo to her.

As she looked at it, curious, some of his family leaned in to take a look. "I don't know this person, either." She admitted. Her face blanched ever so slightly as she handed the picture back to him. She looked up nervously at one or more of his hovering family members. He wasn't sure who, for he couldn't seem to concentrate on anything but her.

Man, was he going to have trouble with his case, he thought bitterly. There was something about this city. Something about this group of people all together. He couldn't concentrate on being Agent Booth. Hell, he'd just been shot at and he had all but forgotten. He hoped he could get Bones alone soon. He needed to pull her back out from behind her shield. He needed the real her for this one.

When he didn't take the picture right away, she shook it impatiently in front of him. He muttered a quick apology, folded the photo and slid it into his pocket, eyes still focused on her. She had stood, and was walking swiftly away.

"Bones?" He called confused.

She sighed. "Just going to wait for the paramedics, Booth."

His stomach twitched. He felt his heart rate speed up. A feeling tingled through him, from the top of his head all the way down to his toes. He was missing something. Something important.

"Bones?" He called again, though he wasn't sure what for.

Sufficiently irritated now, his partner huffed and turned back to face him from about ten feet away.

She was wearing the same expression she had been wearing earlier in the restaurant. Something had her worried then. Something big. She had looked more confused, as opposed to her present look of distress. Still, they were somehow the same.

Booth watched her closely, his expressions, he knew, displayed clearly on his face. He watched her recognize them. Watched her understand. Watched her read his mind.

"Booth - no.."

Slowly he rose to his feet. More pieces of the puzzle clicking together. "Bones…" He murmured uncertainly.

"Booth…" She practically ran back to him grasping his wrist and pulling him away with her.

"You -" He sputtered. No it couldn't be true.

"Shh, Booth _wait_." She pleaded, pulling him around a corner and away from curious eyes. She pushed his back against a wall, looking over her shoulder to ensure that there were no listening ears.

"You -" He muttered again, "You _knew _this was going to happen!?" He hissed under his breath, disbelief filling every morsel of his being. He refused to believe it.

"No - Booth," She was as close to whining as he'd ever heard her, and she all but stamped her foot. "I just… I felt something funny…earlier." She looked away from his eyes. "Here." She whispered, a finger pointing to her stomach. "And… I couldn't think about anything else."

"What did it feel like?" Booth whispered back.

"I don't know…" She sighed again, frustrated. "Angela would call them butterflies."

"Okay…"

"But, it only happened when I looked at…" She paused, then continued abruptly. "And it wouldn't stop either - my mind was racing and scenarios were flipping through it… and I -" she paused, swallowing. That little crease between her eyebrows, betrayed how she was feeling. Confused.

"You what?" He urged, softly bringing a hand up to rest on her shoulder.

Her eyes were fixed on his hand as she said, "I just felt like something wasn't right. That something was…wrong." When he didn't answer her right away, she seemed nervous to raise her eyes to meet his once more.

When she did, he could tell how worried she was. Worried that he'd be angry - tell her she was crazy.

"Bones…" He murmured, squeezing her shoulder. "That was your gut trying to tell you something. You have got to trust your instincts."

"But - everything I've ever learned tells me that -"

"You're instincts are good, Bones." He interrupted. "Most of the time." For some reason, if only just to irk her, he felt this was important to add.

She nodded, once again looking at the floor. She seemed to have more to say - but he knew he couldn't push too hard. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, so I'm thinking that we'll wait for the paramedics and then -"

"Booth." She interrupted him, looking into his eyes with a new ferocity.

"Yeah?"

"I think I know who did this."

**A/N: Gasp. That is all. Please Review!**


	8. We Saw Things Through Each Other's Eyes

**Author's Note: Hiya all! Thanks for sticking with me and my infrequent updating. Thank you, once again, for all the fabulous reviews. And, of course, to my beta Tabitha…you're my favourite! Enjoy!**

Can we get back to the point of this conversation,  
when we saw things through each other's eyes,  
cause now all I see is ruin and devastation,  
we all need some place we can hide inside and

After all we're only human,  
always fighting what we're feeling,  
hurt instead of healing,  
after all we're only human,  
is there any other reason why we stay instead of leavin'

_Human, Jon McLaughlin_

They rest of them had fallen asleep. She had her arms around them all, protecting them so that they felt safe enough to close their eyes and forget where they were. But she didn't feel safe. No one was protecting _her_.

Her eyes remained opened wide, and she stared down the door that he had used. She blinked as little as she could. She was afraid she'd missed something.

This was her fault. She told the others that they could trust Aariz, that he was a good man. But he wasn't a good man. They shouldn't have trusted him.

She wished her Daddy was here. Or her Uncle Jared. Uncle Seeley would be the best, she thought. It was his job to make sure bad guys didn't hurt anyone. He would definitely know what to do.

"Hannah?" Murmured a quiet, sleepy voice from beside her. Maya raised her head from where it had been resting on Hannah's shoulder. "It's okay to sleep. He's not going to hurt us."

Hannah sighed. "I know." But she didn't. She didn't know. "Go back to sleep, Maya. I'll wake you up when he comes back." She gently guided her cousin's head back to her shoulder and rubbed her back for a moment. Her Mommy always did that to help her and Kelsey get to sleep.

The room was dark. The only light that came in was from a small window high up on the wall above their heads. It was really dirty though, so not as much light came in as it would if someone used some Windex on it. That was her favourite chore at home. Cleaning the mirrors and the windows. She would have cleaned this one too, if it hadn't been so high, and if there had been some Windex lying around.

There was no furniture in the room either. And the floor they were sitting on was cold and hard. At least Aariz had given them a blanket. She wondered why he would do that. He was doing a bad thing. He was keeping them in this room, and their parents didn't even know where they were. He wouldn't let them leave either, not even when she asked very nicely. She wondered what he would do if they had to go to the bathroom.

Just then the door flung open, and Hannah gave a jolt of surprise. Aariz walked in with some grocery bags in one hand and a newspaper in the other. He didn't look up right away, because he was reading it. When he did, and noticed her watching him, he gave her a smile and closed the door behind him with his foot.

"Heya, Hannah-banana. Did you sleep at all? It would do you some good if you slept. It's past your bedtime." Aariz set his groceries on the floor and began emptying them.

"No it's not." Hannah retorted as quietly as she could, not wanting to wake the others. "It's still light out. It's not even night time."

"I forgot how smart you are, Hannah-banana." He said this with a smile, almost as if he was proud of her.

"Aariz, can we go now?" She swallowed the lump in her throat, and was happy that she had sounded so brave.

"Not yet, Sweetheart." He made his way to her with some of the groceries in his hand, but she didn't even look at them.

"Why?"

"Because your mother and father do not know you are here yet. But when they do, I am sure someone will come to get you." Aariz gestured to the boxes of snacks in his hand. "Look, I bought you your favourite."

Hannah looked warily down at the snacks he had set in her lap. She wouldn't eat them. And she wouldn't let the others eat them either. Maybe she could open a few and stick some of the fruit snacks and pieces of granola into her pants pocket so he would think they were eating.

"Thank you." She whispered anyway.

He smiled at her once more, and turned to leave the room, shutting the door softly behind him.

Her parents had always told her to never take candy from strangers. Before now, she would have taken some from Aariz in a heartbeat. He was a friend, not a stranger. Now she didn't know what he was.

…

"Seeley, you don't have to carry me. I am perfectly capable of using those crutches. That's why the doctor gave them to me, after all. To use them."

"Be careful, Mom. You're starting to sound like Bones." Booth chuckled, as he eased his mother down, out of his arms, and onto the couch.

"When have you ever carried me?" Bones questioned from somewhere behind him.

"_Please_. Don't pretend that's not exactly what you would say if it was you with the sprained ankle." Turning back to his mother he asked, "You sure you don't want me to bring you up to your room? You might be more comfortable in your bed."

"I am fine. You've been carrying me around for the last two hours. The couch is fine." Looking around, she seemed to realize that the entire family was awkwardly standing around her, unsure of what exactly to do. "Well don't just stand there! Sit, sit." She sighed, before muttering, "I've got a sprained ankle, I'm not on my death bed."

"Are you sure? I don't mind carrying you upstairs…I'm kinda strong you know?" With a cheeky smile he pushed the sleeve of his shirt up to flex his muscle.

Joe chuckled along with the rest of the family before being sharply cut off by Temperance.

"Booth!" She hissed, exasperated. "What are you doing?"

His son did something then that he never would have suspected. "Nothing, Bones." He snapped at her. "Just trying to calm my family down. Is that a problem?"

"Yes!"

Their voices were raised, and the aura that resulted was filled with a very different sort of tension than their normal bickering brought on. They were angry with each other.

"Why? This is what families do, in case you've forgotten."

An icy silence followed. Temperance stayed frozen in her stance, still staring him down. Seeley's shoulders sagged. "Bones, I -" His apology cut off.

"Comforting the family is not what is important right now. I told you that I knew -"

"I know what you told me! I just would rather not believe what you're thinking, thank you very much!"

Something must have happened. Some conversation that none of the family witnessed, because there was not a face in the room that didn't reflect the utter confusion Joe felt in that moment. How they could have gone from fierce protectiveness, to pure anger in so little time was something that he couldn't quite grasp.

"I haven't told you what I am thinking yet, Booth. You haven't give me I chance! I'm telling you I know something and I need to talk to you -"

"We've been partners for four years, Bones, I can practically read your mind! I know what you're thinking. I _know_." His voice grew softer, almost as if it was his way of apologizing for snapping at her.

"Then why-" Temperance was now nearly hysterical.

"I'm not ignoring the situation, okay? I trust you more than I trust myself, so I'm not thinking of questioning you for one second. Just, _please_, give me time to wrap my mind around it!"

Joe didn't have to be able to read her mind to understand the look she gave his son then.

They didn't have time.

Seeley's shoulders sagged, and with his eyes locked on his partner's, he showed her, and only her, just how helpless he was feeling. Joe felt as though he was intruding on a personal moment, but he could not tear his eyes away.

"Who?" Seeley murmured to her.

Joe was mesmerized by the two of them. How was it that they could have an entire conversation with so few words? Immediately, his mind was catapulted back to a few hours before…

_He, like his son, saw that something was wrong with Temperance. She looked worried about something, but he also knew that it was neither his place, nor the right time to ask her about it. His wife though, good intentions in her heart, seemed to think it was. _

_Joe watched as Linda softly touched the girl's arm, and asked her if she was sure that everything was okay. Temperance, as usual, assured her that she was fine, and put on a false smile. _

_Joe felt a pang deep within his heart. He wished this girl had more experience with smiling for real._

_No sooner had this loving thought entered his mind, did the world seem to turn completely upside down. She pushed his wife with all her might, causing Linda to scream out in pain as she hit the hard, mall floor, and for a split second pure anger bubbled through him, and Joe considered running after his son's partner to return the favour, but only a moment after that she was concentrating all that might into tackling his son to the ground…to save his life. _

_The mall erupted in chaos, and Linda, whom he had gathered up in his arms and cradled against him, was hysterical. From her position, she couldn't see their son, and instinctively knew, as mothers are wont to, that the bullet had been meant for her boy. _

"_It's okay, Lin. It's okay. I can see them. They're both fine." He had tugged her tighter against him then, hoping the action wouldn't cause her more pain, and pressed a kiss to her temple. _

_It was true. He could see them. And so could the rest of the family, gathered around him. _

_If any one of them had doubted for one second the complete and utter devotion Seeley felt for this girl, and her for him, or how absolutely essential their presence was to the other, they needn't look any further than the scene of the two before them._

_They were on the level below them, but were at such an angle in relation to them, that they could easily be seen. She lay atop him, amidst the mobs of terrified shoppers who ran in every direction, though they seemed to be as far away from the chaos as one could possibly be. They stared at one another, but Joe, as much as any other person who happened to be looking at them in that moment, could see plainly that it wasn't simply the other's eyes that they saw, it was the depths of their soul._

_A few seconds later, a large inflatable cartoon character - one that his young granddaughters were completely infatuated with, if he recalled correctly - deflated to the point where it fell to the ground concealing the two of them from view. It seemed right that such a thing had occurred. They were having a private moment, relishing in the fact that they had not been taken from one another just yet, and deserved to be secluded from the rest of the world. _

_If but only for a few short seconds._

_Soon they were up, attempting to control the situation and Joe took the opportunity to ensure that his family was still whole and intact. Jared, who was kneeling on the floor next to his mother, had his arms around his wife and daughter, while Matt and Kayla's hands were clasped together in a grip that Joe would be surprised if even the strongest man alive could unlock. With the exception of Linda's injury, all was well._

_In seconds, Seeley was before them, face pale and eyes wide with horror at the sight of his mother in pain. His face went immediately paler, and eyes just a little more horrified as he attempted to ease the pain of his partner as she realized what she had done._

_And then, as Temperance went off in a different direction, and Seeley returned to them, Joe saw just how deeply she lay within his son's heart as he defended her actions. He couldn't have them angry with her. It hurt him to even think of the possibility. _

_Before Joe could reassure him, Linda beat him to it. "She just saved your life. I think I can deal with a sprained ankle."_

_Temperance returned with a bag of ice a moment later, as Seeley went off to talk to mall security. Joe watched her, and knew by the hardness in her eyes, by her rigid movements, and her refusal to look anyone in the face that she was a different Temperance now than the one he knew so well. _

_When his son returned, Joe could tell he noticed this fact, and it caused him even more worry. They conversed briefly about Linda's ankle, and then just as briefly about the shooter - identity unknown, and then were silent._

_Things happened too fast in the world that Seeley and Temperance lived in together. Words went unspoken, but not unheard. And there was no way, as an outsider, he could keep up. _

_They were on their feet again, after many significant looks and very few words. They said each other's names a few times, sometimes in confusion, sometimes in warning, with long pauses in between. And then she was pulling him around a corner, terrified. Obviously, she had words that needed to be voiced aloud. Words he needed to hear, that the rest of them could not. _

_Joe knew he should have been scared. Or at the very least on edge after what had happened. His son nearly shot to death, his wife with a sprained ankle. But oddly, he felt peace. He felt as though with these two people - family or not - who knew each other so fully, who cared so deeply, not just for each other, but for others as well, there could never be any danger. Nothing could touch him. _

_And like the Grinch who stole Christmas once upon a time ago, he felt his heart swell a few sizes larger - though, he had never considered his own small to begin with - and felt pride surge through his veins. Joe knew that whatever was to come, whatever pain and horror this mystery shooter would bring, he _knew_ that he was going to witness something spectacular. Not the pain and horror of course, that he knew could possibly be one of his most terrifying experiences in life. The way in which these two partners would deal with the situation would be the spectacular part. _

_They were spectacular on their own. But together, as he had seen moments ago, and truthfully had always suspected, well, there were no words for that._

Joe was suddenly jerked back to the present when his son raised his voice once more. "Who!?"

More silence followed and Temperance did not answer.

"Bones, please, tell me." Seeley moved closer to her, though he still kept a few feet of space between them. Joe suspected that when they looked at each other as they were doing now, neither registered any amount of space between them. They were as close as they could get.

"I can't, Booth." She whispered. "Not here."

"_Temperance._ I need to know. You need to tell me who it is." He was pleading with her.

Her shoulders sagged and the expression on her face showed signs of defeat. She sighed.

"Bones…" He whispered again and it seemed to help the process along.

"It's…Matt." She murmured quietly, but everyone heard it.

Seeley's eyes fell shut, his jaw set. Joe felt his gaze, along with everyone else's in the room, shift immediately to Matt, all wondering what significance her words held.

Matt looked pale. Unnaturally so. He cleared his throat and a nervous chuckle escaped his lips. "Uh, what about Matt?"

All heads whipped back to the partners standing before each other, as though Matt had just hit the tennis ball back onto their side of the court.

They were still looking at each other. Hundreds of messages conveyed to one another, unreadable to the rest.

"Booth…" She finally breathed.

"No." He stated firmly. "No."

And with that, he turned swiftly into the living room, a fire in his eyes that Joe had never seen before. He strode straight for Matt, and some invisible force made Joe reach out and pull his daughter away from her husband and into his arms.

Seeley grabbed him by the collar and threw him into the nearest wall, shattering a number of picture frames that hung there, and causing screams of horror to emit from everyone in the room.

Except his partner. She stood where he had left her, looking on to the scene solemnly, as though it was something in which she had no control. Joe expected that she didn't.

Picking his brother-in-law up from the floor by the front of his shirt and pinning him against the wall by the throat Seeley said, "Now. Are you going to tell me why it is that you're trying to kill me, or shall I go fetch my gun?"

**A/N: Does anyone love angry Booth as much as me? Sigh. Review!**


	9. Burning Room

**Author's Note: Okay. So it's safe to say that it's been a while. For that I apologize, but I think you can expect quite a bit of updates in the next month. I had SO much fun writing this chapter. I hope you all enjoy it and I can't wait to hear what you think! Thanks again to Tabitha for being my beta. You're my favourite!!**

We're going down,  
And you can see it too.  
We're going down,  
And you know that we're doomed.  
My dear,  
We're slow dancing in a burning room

_Slow Dancing in a Burning Room – John Mayer_

His eyes were wild. Scary. Only on two past occasions had she seen that unhinged fire swirling around that comforting chocolate brown and it frightened her. It reminded her that he had a past. That at one time, he hadn't been the goofy, solid Booth that she had come to know so well. He had been broken once. People had broken him in a way that could never be fixed.

It reminded her that she could do nothing to make it go away.

She thought back to the first military case they worked on together. She remembered how fiercely he fought her, defending the army and the county he loved so much. Defending it blindly. Even after it had broken him. She had never wished so badly in that moment that the outcome of a case be different. That she could have provided him with the results that he had believed to be true. Truth was always what she fought for. The true truth. Nothing less. But that day, when Booth was forced to learn that the Army of the United States of America would cover up the murder of an innocent, the murder of one of their own, she wished that the truth wasn't true. She wished that it was a lie.

That unhinged fire in his eyes, it made her think of Ranger Booth. A Booth she didn't know. There was a disconnect between his mind and his heart. He was fuelled with an anger and a drive for justice that was so unlike the one that Agent Booth possessed. This one was not thought through. His actions were not carefully planned. He acted, but never thought. Her mind flashbacked to a time that was mostly a blur. Vague images of decoratively painted horses embodied on a slow moving carousel, cheerful music that contrasted so painfully with what was happening at the time. But even when she saw Parker at that ice cream stand, saw that he was safe, she knew that a simple merry-go-round would forever more remind her of danger and panic. The unhinged fire was present in Booth's eyes that day, too.

And right now, standing in the living room of his favourite place with his favourite people, Brennan knew that the look that pierced her so deeply was present in her partner's eyes. No, she couldn't see them this time. He had his back to her. But she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt.

The look of terror on Matt's face was proof enough.

"Look, Seeley, I don't know what's going on, I-"

"Gun it is then." In one fluid motion, Booth had his gun out of its holster and pressed painfully against Matt's temple, his other hand still pinning him to the wall by the throat. One picture frame that managed to remain hanging on the wall held shards of glass that were probably digging harshly into his brother-in-law's back, but she could tell that Booth didn't care.

Her gaze wavered slightly from her partner's tense shoulders to the petrified faces of the rest of the family, stunned into silence. Kayla, tightly locked in Joe's arms looked at if she desperately wanted to scream, but couldn't take in enough oxygen to do so. Shelby was wedged tightly between her mother and father, a hand covering her mouth, terrified by the man she idolized above all others. Linda, sitting on the couch, was pale as a ghost.

Brennan couldn't let this happen. Booth hated himself enough already.

She strode purposefully into the living room from the front hall where he had left her seconds before. She hesitated only briefly before forcefully laying a hand on Booth's shoulder, pulling him away. That, however, did not go over very well.

It happened so fast even her genius mind did not have the time to process it. Before she could blink her partner had her pinned up against the opposite wall, her feet off of the ground, and his gun flailing precariously near her head, pointed at the ceiling, the safety off.

"No." He stated firmly, staring her down in a way that made her pity every person who had ever been on the receiving end of her partner's wrath. "No. You don't get to tell me to calm down. You don't _get_ to tell me anything. I'm sorry Bones, I really am," His voice was dripping with sarcasm, and she knew he had never once spoken to her this way. Ever. "I know how much you love them. How you feel like you're part of one big, happy family here. I'm sorry that image has shattered for you. But I'm not going to pretend that this isn't happening and there is no way that you're going to stop me. Understand?"

His eyes were wild with a fury that was directed at her. She would have been terrified out of her mind. She would have forgotten all about her suit of armour. She would have cried and screamed, and mourned the loss of a partner and friend that she had trusted so fully. A little piece of her heart would have snapped in half…had she not known Seeley Booth so well.

Instead, she smiled cynically up at him, instantly reminding herself of that first day at the shooting range. "You're powers of intimidation are impressive, Booth, it's true." She cocked her head to one side as though she was studying some fascinating specimen of human remains. His eyes narrowed. "You should know by now that they don't work on me."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Joe Booth cautiously approaching, seemingly to save her from his son's death grip.

"Don't," she stated firmly, her gaze never waving from Booth's before her. Booth however, jumped into action pulling himself and her away as though from an enemy who was attacking him blind sighted, instead of a concerned father who only wished to help.

Booth held his father's eyes for a long moment as Joe raised his hands in surrender and took a few steps back. When he suddenly turned back to her, the wild, unhinged fire had disappeared and in its place was confusion and fear. One by one, he removed his fingers from their grip on the gun and slowly let it clatter to the floor, its echoes reverberating loudly in the silent room. He gently placed her feet back on the ground, but seemed unable to move away. A shaky breath escape his lips before he whispered, "He tried to kill me."

The words hung in the air long after he finished saying them and no one spoke. No one even dared to breathe.

"He tried to kill me." He repeated, louder this time. "He tried to _kill _me, Bones."

Brennan nodded. "Maybe."

His eyes widened, "_Excuse me?_"

"I said maybe, Booth. Maybe." She sighed, remembering the words he had once said when it was _her _world that was falling apart. "There's a story here, that we don't know yet." He said nothing, so she continued. "I don't know who's side you think I'm on because the only _reason_ I feel a part of a big, happy family here is because of you. The only _reason _that I love them is because of you." She paused letting those words be what hung in the silence for a moment. "If Matt is trying to kill you, Booth, than I will be more than happy to put a bullet through his skull myself."

Booth held her gaze, all the fire gone. His eyes were wide and glassy. "If…" he whispered back to her.

She nodded firmly. "And until we know any more we're just going to…_chill_."

He nodded back, swallowing back his emotions and pulling away from her. "Okay."

As the cool air his body had been shielding her from rushed at her from all directions, she wished that he would make fun of her for using the word 'chill'. Just for a second. Instead of looking so shattered and hopeless.

She reached out to touch his arm. "Go outside."

He stared at her for a moment. "I'm not leaving you in here with him."

"I have the gun. Go."

With a sigh and a regretful glance around at his family who all nervously stared back at him, he walked away, jaw set, shoulders tense and closed the front door quietly behind him.

Brennan stared for a moment at the closed door before calmly directing her gaze at Joe. She held his eyes, hoping to convey to him an apology in advance for anything that she may do because, really, she had no plan. Just as calmly, she bent down to retrieve the gun that Booth had dropped to the floor, flicked the safety on and looked across the room at Matt, who seemed to think it was safe at this point to rise back up to his feet.

"He won't kill you, Matt." She told him, and watched as the family gave a collective sigh of relief.

"I have no idea what's going on -" Kayla finally found her voice, thick with emotion as she made her way to her shaken husband.

"Kayla!" Brennan barked, regretting her volume immediately. Kayla jumped, her eyes resembling those of a deer caught in headlights. Brennan sighed. "Just - stay over there please."

"Why?"

Brennan ignored her, holding the gun hesitantly in Matt's direction. "Listen, Matt. I do not know the extent of your involvement in this. I don't know if you meant for this to happen or if you honestly did not see it coming. I, unlike Booth, am terrible at reading people, so therefore, I have no idea whether to trust you or to cuff your hands behind your back and read you your rights." Pausing, she shook her head and amended her words, "Actually, I'm not entitled to read you your rights, Booth would have to do that, but this is besides the point." Brennan huffed. There was a reason that Booth mediated her interpersonal relations.

"Brennan, you got to listen to me," Matt implored, hands slightly raised, he took a few small steps towards her. "I was just as shocked as you were, I have no idea -"

Uncomfortable with his encroaching proximity, Brennan held the gun more firmly. "Back against the wall," she hissed, through clenched teeth. He obeyed immediately.

"Honey," Linda's voice was laced with confusion. "What are you saying - Matt is…somehow involved in that shooting? I just - that's not possible."

"Sweetheart, just - let her do what she needs to do. We'll figure everything out in time." Joe gave his wife's hand a reassuring squeeze as he perched himself on the armrest next to where she sat on the couch.

"Are you kidding me, Dad?" Kayla's voice was nearing hysteria. "She's not even a part of this family! Seeley would believe her if she said invading aliens were responsible for the threat on his life. You can't possibly agree with her!" Before waiting for a response she marched right towards her husband. "Come on Matt, we're leaving. We don't have to put up with this. I know you didn't do anything -"

"Kayla stay back - please -" Matt tried to warn her.

Brennan clicked the safety off on the gun and the sound reverberated through the now silent room. Kayla froze. Linda gasped.

"Kayla, go sit beside your mother on the couch." Brennan tried to ignore the stab of pain she felt at Kayla's words. No, she wasn't family. Not really, anyway. So then why was this so damn hard? She was confused. Did she really think that Kayla was - what's the term Booth used - in cahoots with Matt? She had no idea. What she did know however was that if this group of people was anybody by Booth's family, this is exactly how he'd be handling the situation.

Brennan watched out of the corner of her eye as Kayla stumbled backwards towards the couch and fell in a heap next to Linda. With her eyes still trained on Matt - gun also back on him - Brennan felt a stab of guilt as she noticed Linda, worried out of her mind, hunched over in pain, attempting to hold her leg in such a way as to make her ankle hurt less. "Joe, pull the coffee table to the couch and rest Linda's foot on it." Brennan ordered.

Joe did as he was asked without question. Why did he trust her so much? She barely trusted herself.

Brennan sighed. "Okay Matt," She began awkwardly. "You have three choices. I think. The first is you confess to everything, and I inflict as much pain on you as I possibly can. Which, I feel I should warn you, is quite a lot. The second is we let Booth take you down to the local Bureau office and have you one on one in an interrogation room. By the way, I honestly have no idea which is worse because I've seen what Booth can do in there and you most definitely will not leave being the same man as when you entered." Offhandedly she added, "It's pretty impressive actually."

Matt sent her a bewildered look. God she was so bad at this. "I mean, not if you're on the receiving end of course. Just observing is impressive -" Brennan sighed. After a moment ticked by she looked down at her weapon. Clicking the safety off, she allowed her arm to drop to her side.

She looked up dejectedly at the many eyes watching her. "I'm not a cop. This is obviously not what I'm good at. I'm learning, but I find this situation -" She gestured around the room - "very uncomfortable. But I have to be the one to do it. Booth can't. It will destroy him."

Brennan allowed her words to hang in the silence. She looked over to Shelby who was still clutched in her father's embrace, a few tears accumulating in her eyes. "I'm sorry this has to happen." Slowly, she allowed her gaze to return to her suspect. "Make it stop, Matt. For everyone's sake."

Matt stared at her and for the first time she allowed herself to take in the emotions clearly splayed across his face. He was terrified. His chest was heaving, his jaw was clenched, his eyes were glassy. He looked panicked, lost and as though he might faint all at the same time.

"What's option three?" He asked hoarsely.

Brennan stared quietly back at him before releasing the gun and allowing it to clatter to the floor. She took sure, steady steps towards him, positive, although not really sure how, of his absolute innocence. She stopped directly in front of him. "Tell me everything."

After a long silence, but for Matt's shaky, uneven breaths he whispered, "I can't."

Brennan studied him. His pupil dilation, his breathing, his perspiration. Was this how Booth looked at when trying to ascertain a person's involvement, motives, and capabilities?

"You didn't know about this." She stated firmly. "You were surprised when that gun went off."

Matt nodded. "Yes."

"But you knew something was going to happen, didn't you? To Booth or me."

Matt let out another shaky breath. "Yes." His hazel eyes swept quickly back and forth between her own. He was trying to keep his composure. He was intimidated by her. Frightened. This served to boost Brennan's self-confidence.

"How?" She asked. "How did you know?"

Matt swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up, then down. "I -" Shaking his head he looked to the floor.

"Look at me."

Immediately, his gaze returned to hers and Brennan was surprised to find that tears were beginning to build up in his eyes. "He - he told me."

"Who?" She waited. "Matt, who told you?"

"A - a man from work."

"A man from work?" Brennan repeated, and then a light bulb turned on. "The man who called you earlier? With the Middle Eastern name?"

Matt's eyes widened, shocked that she remembered. "Uh - yeah. Yeah it was him."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Brennan demanded. "He called you before we even left the house. Before we even decided to go to that restaurant!"

Matt didn't answer. The rest of the family began to vocalize their shock. Someone - Jared probably - swore under his breath.

A tingle slowly worked its way up Brennan's spine. That funny feeling returned to her stomach. She felt nauseous. There was something she was missing. A motive. He wouldn't have kept this from them without a motive. This was all so strange. From her experience, there was nothing that this family loved - in-laws included - more than each other. It wasn't obligatory like so many other families. They actually _liked _each other and enjoyed the company of each individual person. Matt had grown up next door to the Booths, even. And he'd stuck around this long, hadn't he? To what, wait nearly forty years before executing a plan to kill Booth? It didn't make sense.

Brennan took another deep breath. She liked to think that she knew each of the Booths individually. And well, too. But the truth was aside from her partner, his father, and his goddaughter, she really didn't know any of them. At least not well enough to understand Matt's motives without intensive research and Booth's help in the interrogation room.

That was it. She needed Booth. She was only half of the best crime-solving team in the country without him. Looking out the large picture window into the front yard she watched her partner pace, occasionally rubbing a hand roughly over his face. After a moment though, he seemed to sense her - as she often did him - and stopped, looking up to meet her gaze.

Brennan knew Booth. Of that she was certain. So what if this was Booth she was trying to figure out? What if it was he who had done this? Easy. She immediately thought. Booth would never have done this. But _if_, her persistent mind pushed.

Booth loved the people in this room more than life itself. He'd die a million times over if just to prevent them a smidgeon of pain. Nothing in this world mattered more to him - she took in a sharp breath and pain flooded through her as understanding dawned. What about the part of his family that wasn't present in this room?

Parker. His son. Nothing, no one mattered more than the safety and happiness of his little boy. Not even the rest of his family.

Breaking her partner's gaze she swiftly turned back to Matt. "Where are your girls?" She demanded. His breathing seemed to stop all together. "Where are Hannah and Kelsey?" She repeated, trying desperately to ward off the coming hysteria.

"They're - they're at dance camp." Kayla offered nervously. "With Maya and Maddie. The four of them always go to dance camp over spring break." There was dead silence in the room as understanding seemed to painfully work its way into everyone's mind. "Why?" Kayla asked, her voice half an octave higher than normal.

Brennan didn't answer. Instead, she stared straight into Matt's ashen face and within seconds she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that her inkling had been correct. Her stomach plummeted.

"Why?!" Kayla repeated, nearing hysteria. She stood unsteadily. "Somebody talk to me!"

"Matt, does that man - your co-worker - does he have Hannah and Kelsey?"

His strangled sob was answer enough. "What about Maya and Maddie, Matt? Where are they?" Brennan asked evenly, fully shielding the panic she now felt with a serious, no-nonsense demeanour.

"I -" Matt's body crumpled, yet somehow he was able to remain on his feet.

"Matt!" This time it wasn't Brennan. It was Jared.

"He - he has them to - I didn't know - I couldn't stop -" Before anyone, let alone Brennan, had a chance to react to the news, Matt was cut off by a swift punch to the jaw.

"You son of a bitch!" Jared bellowed. "Those are my little girls. How dare you not tell me!" Following Matt on his inevitable fall to the floor, Jared pummelled him, cursing and - Brennan was shocked to see - crying as he delivered the blows.

Jumping into action, she seized Jared's shoulders and thrust his body in the direction of the rest of the family. He landed hard on the floor, shaking the various trinkets on the shelves and tables around the room. Everyone was stunned into a silence.

Brennan stepped between where Matt was crumpled on the floor, his head in his heads, and Jared who looked as though he desperately wanted to jump back up and throw her out of his way.

…

Booth had been watching his partner closely since he'd felt her gaze on him outside. It soothed him. Made him remember to breathe. To think things through. To not let his emotions get the better of him.

She had remained relatively still for the most part, staring meaningfully, curiously at him. The way that always made his hairs stand on end, in a simultaneously very good and very bad way. He'd almost forgot about the shooting, about Matt, about everything as he stared into her distant, but still quite obviously blue eyes. Then, it appeared as though some sort of dark cloud passed over her features and she looked panicked. She had whipped around to demand something of Matt, who seconds later, slid part way down the wall in distress. Kayla stood and he could hear her panicked, muffled screams from his place outside. Jared's swear was loud enough to meet his ears and he watched shocked as Jared flew across the room at Matt.

Booth bolted into the house just in time to see Bones fling his brother to the other side of the room, and step between the two men.

"Don't even think about it Jared. I am more than capable to take you on and, not only will I win, but I will sufficiently kick your ass. Do you understand me?" Jared begrudgingly nodded at her and then opened his mouth to retort. "Stop." She sharply cut him off. "We can't kill him now. We're going to need him."

"Those are my girls!" Jared screamed at her and made to get to his feet, his wife and father physically urging him to stay put.

Booth's stomach fell. His heart rate sped up. A ringing echoed loudly in his ears. The walls seemed to be closing in.

"What about the girls?" Booth asked quietly, in a voice unrecognizable even to him.

Bones whipped around, hair flying as she looked at him, startled by his presence. She stared at him with wide, shocked eyes. Sympathy slowly began to seep in from the corners. "Booth…"

"What girls, Bones?" He urged, zeroing in on her face, her eyes, and forgetting everyone around him.

Bones was quiet for a long time. "Maya, Maddie, Hannah and Kelsey." She whispered.

"No. No, no." Booth shook his head disbelievingly and wagging a cynical finger at his partner. "They are at dance camp. All four of them." Despite his words he felt his face crumple and his shoulders sag. "Dance camp." He repeated pathetically. "Dance camp."

"Booth," Bones took a few steps towards him, but he stepped away. He felt like he was going to be sick.

"Booth," She tried again. "A co-worker of Matt's - he called him. Told him where to take us for lunch. This man is responsible for the shooting."

He couldn't deal with this. He put a hand on his chest and gripped at his own shirt, as though somehow that may calm his wildly beating heart.

"Because of me." He murmured to her. "I - he's got them because of me. He wants me."

"Booth, you don't know that. Listen we've got to -"

"Of course I know it!" Booth yelled, causing his partner to nearly jumped out of her skin. But he didn't care. "What else could it be?" He threw his arms wildly into the air, waiting for an answer.

She didn't have one though.

Suddenly the ring of a cell phone pierced the silence. Booth watched as everyone simply regarded the noise oddly as though they couldn't remember something as normal as the ringing of a cell phone.

"It's Matt's." Brennan whispered.

Booth jumped into action. "Who is it?!" He bellowed bending down to pick Matt up off the floor. "Check to see who it is!"

"Uh -" Matt fumbled for a moment, reaching into his pocket. "Him." He cleared his throat. "It's him."

"Everyone just shut the hell up." Booth snapped at the cries and murmurs of the rest of his terrified family. "Don't let on that we know a thing." He said to Matt in a low voice. Nodding he added, "Put it on speakerphone."

Bones planted herself at his side, arms crossed. A sprinkle of hope, of gratefulness made its way into his mind and he thanked God for her. For everything she was to him. For being here now. He couldn't do this alone.

"Hello?" Matt managed to choke out convincingly after hastily hitting the talk button.

"_You were supposed to make sure that he was in range of that bullet."_ The voice stated, heavily accented, with not so much as a greeting.

"No, I had no idea there was going to _be _a bullet. How could I have -"

"_Regardless, Agent Booth was supposed to be shot and preferably dead or dying as we speak. But he is not."_

Booth exchanged a look with his partner.

"I - I don't know what you want me to say. You gave me no instructions, I was just to take them to that restaurant and -"

"_Enough."_ The voice cut sharply. _"Someone wants to say something to you…" _There was shuffling on the other side of the line. A whimper. And then… _"Daddy?"_

Booth could feel the weight of the gasp that everyone in the room refrained from emitting.

"Kelsey, baby are you okay?" Matt's voice quaked.

"_I - I want you to come get us, Daddy. I don't like it here."_

"I'm trying, baby. Just stay strong. Where's your sister? Is she okay?"

"_Yeah, she's -" _More shuffling. _"Now I hope that gives you some incentive to follow my future requests more closely. You will be hearing from me." _

The phone clicked off. The room was silent but for a moment before the sobs came. Matt's betrayal was forgotten and everyone seemed to grab and latch on to the closest person in their midst.

Booth and Brennan stayed separated from the group. They stared at one another. Their eyes, just like so many times before, conveying their words much better than their voices ever could. _What the hell are we going to do?_

…

Hannah had taken to rocking back and forth on her heels, crouched down close to the floor. She held her hands against the sides of her head because that made the headache hurt less.

Kelsey had been gone for a while now. _He_ had come to get her. Hannah had forgotten to put on her Sponge Bob glow-in-the-dark watch that morning, so she couldn't be sure how long. She had pulled away from Maya and Maddie, both who were still sleeping. She hadn't wanted to wake them with all her rocking.

For the first time since Aariz had picked them up, Hannah allowed tears to well up in her eyes. This was weird for her. Being the strong one. Not that she'd ever been kidnapped before. Because that's what she realized she was - kidnapped. No, it was weird because she had to be the one to look after everybody. She wasn't the oldest. Usually Shelby, her older cousin would look after that. Even Maya was older than she was - even if it was only by a few months. And anyway, Maya didn't seem to think this was as bad as Hannah knew it was.

Hannah shook her head and wiped her tears. There was no use moping about being the one in charge. She had to figure something out. She stood, wiping her sweating palms on her jeans. She made her way to the wall where the window was - the one she wished she had Windex to clean - and looked up at it. She almost had to look straight up at the ceiling to see it.

Even as she placed her palms flat against the stone wall, she knew that climbing it was hopeless. It was flat. With no little nooks and crannies to stick her feet in. She let out a shuddery sigh. Curling her hands into fists she banged them once against the wall so that it hurt. She squinted her eyes shut so that she wouldn't cry and let her forehead come to rest against the cold stone.

Where was Kelsey? What was he doing to her? Did anyone realize that they weren't at dance camp, where they were supposed to be?

Hannah opened her eyes once more, allowing some tears to fall down her cheeks. She looked up to the light from the setting sun coming in through that dusty window.

"Somebody, please," she whispered, "help us."

**A/N: Ahhhhh! Intenseness, intenseness…I'd love to hear what you think!**


	10. This Time I Think I'm To Blame

**Author's Note: Here I am! Here I am! *waves arms wildly* I haven't forgotten about you or this story, I promise! I wish I had a good excuse, but other than school it's honestly just laziness. But I really care about this story and I want to see it through to the end so last weekend I sat down at my computer and planned the ENTIRE story out to a tee. Which I suppose I should have done in the first place… but anyway, so I find it's a lot easy (and faster) to get a chapter rolling. If you haven't noticed, I went back and titled previous chapters and intro-ed them with a song like I did in When You're Gone. Some of the songs in the already posted chapters only **_**weakly**_** fit the plot of the chapter, but that's because I found the songs later on. Now that I know how the rest of the story will play out, I find I'm pretty excited about it and all I can think about is writing. Do you catch the implication? *cough* more updates *cough*, but I really have been bad about **_**saying**_** I'll be quicker and then waiting…hmmm….3 months? So no promises here, take from this what you will… *cough* and faster ones too *cough*. Anyway, thanks to my fabulous beta – and Bones Buddy – Tabitha for simply being awesome. You're my favourite! **

**And on with the show! **

* * *

This time I think I'm to blame, it's harder to get through the days  
You get older and blame turns to shame

Cause everything inside it never comes out right  
And when I see you cry it makes me want to die

I'm sorry I'm bad, I'm sorry you're blue

I'm sorry about all the things I said to you  
And I know I can't take it back

_Sorry - Buckcherry_

This home had always held a strong sense of security for her. Of happiness. It was a fortress against all things that shouldn't be – all things that were too horrible to be. Pain, heartbreak, grief did not exist here. Strength, instinct, passion and love oozed out of every pore of every member of this unbreakable, solid, beautiful family. Nothing could ever touch them.

She was wrong.

Family was not only a blessing here, it was a necessity. The invisible bonds that wound around each person, that connected them to one another would be tangible to even the most distant outsider. For this bond also sprung a number of webs linking each individual person to one other ensuring that every two people shared a relationship unmatched by any of the others. That is what made them so beautiful.

Brennan thought of Booth's relationships with his family: Joe, his father, was his role model - the person that he strove to be like every single day; with his mother he contradictorily strove to protect her and _be _protected by her – she was the only one he truly let look after him; Jared was exactly what Brennan imagined Booth would have been if his past had not unfolded as it had, leaving him with pain and sins he felt the need to atone – it was admiration that he held for Jared, a closeness he ensured to remind himself who he wished he could be and why; his sister Kayla simultaneously was his bratty younger sister who meddled in his life and one of his very best friends – they were the most alike of all the Booth children and Brennan strongly suspected that Kayla knew nearly as much about Booth as she herself did; Vanessa, the baby of the family, was his connection back to his youth – ten years his junior, Vanessa always seemed to be able to turn Booth back into an eight year old boy who whined about not getting his way and thought sticking out his tongue was a sufficient retaliation; Parker was the love of his life, no questions asked – it was his little boy that he fought for every single day of his life with the futile hope that he could remain in his innocent oblivion until the end of time; his relationship with his goddaughter Shelby was strange in that it was based primarily on her blaringly obvious, but always unspoken idolization of him – he was her hero, her honest-to-goodness hero, and while Booth could never allow himself to believe that he was worthy of such a title, he would never, for one second, allow that image to be shattered for her. The two in-laws – Matt and Jen – were just as much a part of the family as the rest. Matt was Booth's best friend as a child and growing up in such parallel lives, overcoming obstacles and achieving rites of passage with one another made it impossible for them not to be bonded forever. Brennan suspected, however, that their relationship was never quite the same after Booth was forced to step back, abandon the stance of wildly protective older brother, and trust in the fact that there really was no better man for his baby sister. To Brennan, Booth's relationship with Jen was something akin to his one with Angela. It was born out of a mutual love for Jared and though there was barely any obvious interaction between them, Brennan's observant eyes rarely missed the friendly smiles of affection they often directed to one another amidst the chaos of the rest of the family.

Booth didn't forge relationships that he did not intend to keep. He ensured that every person was uniquely special to him. There was one problem: there were four crucial members of the family left. Four little girls with whom Booth had yet to have the opportunity to create these special bonds. He lived too far away and visited too infrequently to be any more than goofy Uncle Seeley who bought them the coolest gifts, play-wrestled with them in Grandma's living room and made them the best female football players in their entire school.

Brennan knew that while those girls loved him with all their hearts, this would not be enough for Booth. He didn't know them. Not enough for his liking, anyway. And if God forbid anything happened to them, the guilt he held because of this, piled on top of the guilt for believing he was the cause would overwhelm him. Even he, the strongest person she had ever known, would crumble under its weight.

Today was the day that Brennan was forced to learn that there _was _something that couldbreak this family, and that was the loss of one of their own.

…

"This is bullshit!" From her position in her office, Angela cringed as she watched her best friend's partner throw his cell phone with impressive force and then immediately felt her heart give a sympathetic lurch as she took in the look on Brennan's face through the video monitor.

"Booth, breaking your cell phone is not going to change the fact the FBI refuses to let you lead this investigation," Brennan told him pointedly before letting out a sigh and turning her attention back to the screen.

Angela knew that's not really what she had wanted to say. Even before she found herself staring into her friend's crystal blue eyes, swimming with despair, she saw in her posture, in the little crease that formed between her eyebrows, in the unconscious biting of her lower lip before she spoke – what she really wanted to say was: _I'm here for you. I don't know how to help. I wish you weren't hurting._

"Listen, Sweetie," Angela began, "we're going to help from here in any way we can. Let's talk this through and figure out –"

"Here's the problem, Angela," Booth appeared in the screen once more, a look of agitation far greater than any he had ever directed at her on his face, "You – are in there," he knocked mockingly on the screen of Brennan's computer, "and we – are out here. So, really, thanks for your help." Sarcasm oozed off of his words and Angela found her normally thick skin penetrated slightly by a man who had been nothing but warm and caring towards her in the past.

"Booth!" Brennan admonished.

"It's fine, Bren. Let's just –"

"What Bones? What? You think she can throw a bunch of figures and measurements into her holographic crystal ball and then_ poof_! The girls are back, just like that?"

"No Booth, that's not what I'm saying," Brennan answered as calmly as she could. "We've worked many, many cases with the team in DC and us elsewhere, what makes you think –"

"Because this is different, Bones!" Booth bellowed at her, making Angela jump from her place, safely in her office. She had to admire Brennan's complete lack of reaction. Not even a flinch. She simply stared up at him towering over her.

"I understand that –"

"I don't think you do! I mean you people have created these absurd fantasy lives where you are all investigators. _I _am the investigator. _I _bring you the investigations. You are just a _squint_, Bones!"

Angela suppressed a gasp of shock. She watched as Brennan, in an eerily calm demeanor, slowly turned her head to look up at her partner. Booth, she saw, was doing horribly at attempting to conceal his guilt beneath his anger.

"You need to go outside." Brennan stated without emotion.

"What –"

"Go." There was no mistaking the command in her voice. She turned back to Angela and opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted once more.

"Bones –" Angela couldn't see Booth any longer, he must have taken a step back in reaction to the iciness that was wafting off Brennan; she herself could practically feel all the way through to DC.

"I said go."

"Bones, I want to help -" The guilt that laced his voice barely a second ago was overpowered by frustration at being told what to do.

"Well you're not helping, are you?" She still didn't turn to face him, instead she appeared to be typing something in an extra window on her screen.

"Temperance –"

In a flash, Brennan had pushed her chair back with force and disappeared from Angela's view. Angela squeezed her eyes shut as she heard Booth yelling at her to let go – it seemed that she had taken him by the scruff of the neck and was pushing him towards the exit. She physically jumped in her seat at the slamming of a door from Brennan's end of the video feed.

When she returned Angela smiled and said, "Good for you, Sweetie," though she knew the second it left her lips that it was the wrong thing to say. The situation was too dire to be making jokes.

"It's not funny, Angela." Brennan sighed, burying her face in her hands. When she spoke again her voice was significantly lower and Angela suspected that what she was about to say wasn't for the ears of the Booth family, who were presumably only a room away. "Booth's never been this… out of sorts before. He's –" Brennan let out a massive sigh, as she often did when the right words seem to elude her. "He's not thinking straight, Ange. If he can't pull himself out of this – we need Booth. We _need _him. He's the investigator."

"Brennan, you know he didn't mean it. Booth worships the ground you walk on. You're not _just _anything to him, Sweetie."

"Angela, I don't want to talk about it. Let's just figure out what to do." She sighed again and ran her fingers through her hair in agitation.

Cam appeared behind her and Angela jumped in surprise. She wondered how long she had been lingering in the background, waiting for Angela to make sure Brennan was okay before making her presence known. "Dr. Brennan, the Amber Alert is officially up, I just got off with the Bureau. They're sending a local agent to you as soon as possible."

"Thanks, Cam. What about Booth's file, did you ask them about that?"

"Yeah, apparently they don't do this for just anybody, but they trust Booth's judgment. As far as they're concerned, if Booth says this is somebody lashing out at him, then that's exactly what it is. They're sending a list of all the people Booth has come in contact with in the last fifteen years who fit the description of Aariz El-Gendy. It'll be here within the hour."

"They're sending it to the Jeffersonian?" Brennan asked, "Without an agent there?"

"Yes. They know that Booth will insist that we be a part of the investigation anyway, and they figure we'll be in close touch. Plus, our equipment can render the data faster than their's can." Cam gave a small smile, "And, like I said, it seems that they're finally starting to understand just how much they owe Booth for everything he's done."

"Great," Brennan sighed again, before looking off to something Angela and Cam couldn't see from their view. "Looks like their Agent is here already, I'm going to talk to her. Call me as soon as you've got that list."

They watched as they're view of Brennan clicked off, leaving a blank screen. After a moment, Angela looked up at Cam who was still leaning over her shoulder. Their eyes met and they shared a silent understanding that the outcome of this would either make or break their favourite duo.

…

Booth watched as a large, silver SUV pulled into his driveway and he felt a curious mixture of feelings. He was relieved that _finally_ someone was here to get the search going, but it also made him resent that he was forbidden to investigate all that much more.

"Agent Booth, I presume?" The petite, Latino woman called as she exited her car in a 'let's get this show on the road' sort of manner.

Booth had a fleeting thought about her small size not possibly being an asset to the FBI, but pushed the thought immediately out of his mind.

"Yes. You are?" He couldn't help it. He kept his firm gaze set on her, clearly ensuring that she understood that she was walking onto claimed territory. That she wasn't wanted. This was _his _family and therefore _his _duty to keep them safe.

"I'm sorry, Agent Booth. I understand how this situation must frustrate you, but I can assure you I am here to help find your nieces and will include you in any part of the investigation as I see fit." Extending her hand in a gesture of camaraderie, she introduced herself, "I'm Agent Ellie Lopez."

Booth stared her down for a moment longer before taking her hand in his. He had to admire her unflinching hold of his unfriendly gaze. She had a Bones-like aura about her, as though she developed a thick skin against the doubt people directed at her for being a female in a male-dominated field. He decided to give her a chance.

"Uh, thanks," he ventured awkwardly. "Why don't you come inside and meet my partner?"

"That would be great."

Booth led her in through the front door and was immediately regarded by eight pairs of wary eyes from the people gathered around the island counter in the kitchen.

"This is Agent Lopez. She's going to be heading up the investigation." Booth avoided his partner's gaze. "This here is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan of the Jeffersonian Institute and this is my family."

As the introductions were made, despite his best intentions, he felt his Bones' eyes beckoning him, sucking him in. He finally looked at her. She stood opposite him, on the other side of the counter, firmly planted next to Kayla. She wanted to make sure he was okay, he could tell. Didn't she understand? How _he _was didn't really matter right now.

"Are you going to find my girls?" Kayla asked, sounding so much smaller and weaker than the feisty sister he knew. He felt his heart break a little, as a renewed sense of adrenaline surged through him and he physically had to force himself to keep his feet firmly planted. He wanted to run out of the house, hop in his car and drive. Anything to be _doing _something to help.

"Why don't we all go take a seat in the living room?" Agent Lopez ventured courteously.

"We don't want to sit." He said curtly, he felt Bones' gaze intensify.

"Okay, but -"

"We're fine here. Can we please just get this show on the road?" He knew he was being rude. Irrational is what Bones would call it. He couldn't help it. She had said the words and he felt a sucker punch to the gut. That's what _he _always said.

"Booth-"

"Bones, just -" He almost told her to shut up. "Now is not the time, okay?"

"Fine." She turned to Agent Lopez. "My team at the Jeffersonian is going through a file of Booth's contacts from the last fifteen years and comparing them to El-Gendy. They will let us know if they find anything."

"Why are they doing that?" Agent Lopez asked incredulously, making Booth look up at her.

Bones looked taken aback. "Well, so we can figure out who he really is, unless that's not your objective?"

"I apologize if I've offended you Dr. Brennan, but I'm running this investigation, so I'd appreciate if I sanctioned every step that we take," Lopez said firmly. "Now may I ask what gives a forensics lab authority to view these files?"

Anger flowed through Booth and he was about to jump in, but Brennan beat him to it.

"The Jeffersonian Institute contracts out to the FBI and my team has been working with Booth for the last four years. You see, Agent Booth is the best in the bureau and as his superiors are well aware of that fact, so they are more than willing to skip a few steps in order to get these little girls back home where they belong. If you have a problem, than I suggest you get yourself a replacement immediately because we certainly do not have time for this." Booth could feel the fury coming off his partner in waves.

"Dr. Brennan, this is not a struggle for a power here, but if you want to turn it into one, I'll still be the one with the badge." Lopez flicked it out for effect. "You are a scientist, so I suggest you leave this one to the real investigators. Now -"

It cut him, these words the woman spoke to her. He watched his partner's face flare up with rage and saw her retort forming in her mind. Deep within her eyes, however, behind that strength, that defiance, that impenetrable exterior he saw doubt and uncertainty. _He _had just told her that she was no investigator. That she was just a squint.

And just like that Booth felt the feeling of hopelessness that had been plaguing him, the confusion, the inability to form two straight thoughts, to do anything that would help him figure out his next course of action, seep out of him with his words.

"Agent Lopez," he began, walking away from her to join his partner on the other side of the counter, "I understand how it can be hard to see how a bunch of squints can be of any possible help to any type of investigation when all they have are a bunch of fancy microscopes and thousand dollar words. Believe me, I said that same thing to my boss when he told me four years ago that I had to work with them. And you know what? It took me all of about three minutes to realize that I was wrong. So my suggestion is that you take about three seconds, so that we can stop making this about us and concentrate on the matter at hand." He felt Bones looking up at him, but he refused to turn away from Lopez's bewildered gaze.

Eventually Lopez gave in, let her shoulders sag, and said, "Fine. I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot. I'm just confused as to what you think your team can accomplish by looking at these files."

Bones made to answer but Booth beat her to it. "I have a bit of a track record with big, bad criminals and, like Bones said, I'm pretty damn good at my job. That tends to make them angry. This is happening because of me."

"Alright, I understand that. By why involve an affiliate institute when the FBI can do it just as well?" He had to give her credit, she was trying now. Hers were honest questions, but Booth didn't forgive so easily.

"They have a computer genius over there that could dance circles around the FBI."

Bones interjected, "Yeah, blind-folded and on stilts."

He looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

"What? It's true."

Booth hid a smirk and continued, "Plus their technology is a hundred times better than anything we have."

"Better than the FBI?" Lopez looked at him questioningly.

"That's what I said."

They were all silent and he watched Lopez struggle with herself for a moment.

"Okay. I was wrong. It appears that this is what needs to be done. I'd appreciate if I was kept informed of your progress."

"We'll keep you informed." Booth told her.

"Good. Now," she sighed. "I don't expect you'll let me talk to -" She pulled her notebook out of her pocket, "Matt Bennett on my own?"

Booth shook his head, "Not a chance."

Lopez looked up at him surprised; apparently she had expected him to concede.

"Agent Booth, I understand that this is your family, but you are most definitely too close to this one to ensure sound judgment. I really must insist-"

"I already questioned him. He knows no more than we do. You can trust me on that."

"Oh - you can," Brennan interjected immediately, "he's very trustworthy."

Lopez was silent for a long time. She looked slowly between him and Bones. "Okay. I'm going to play this your way." She nodded. "I'll trust you with this one, but you realize what's at stake."

He only nodded.

"Fine. Fill me in on what you got."

Lopez scribbled notes on her pad as Booth relayed to her details about the shooting, the phone call and the extent of Matt's involvement.

"Okay, looks like the next step for me is to go question the parents of other girls heading off to this dance camp. See if anyone saw anything." As she made to leave she said, "I'll keep you updated on my progress."

"As will we." He knew better than to ask if he could accompany her to the questionings. Just as she turned into the front hall he said, "Oh and Agent Lopez?"

She turned.

"Don't ever talk to my partner like that again."

They stared at each other in silence.

"Dr. Brennan is a better investigator than any of us _with a badge _will ever be."

After a beat, she nodded and left the house.

The occupants of the kitchen sat without speaking, allowing the tension of the conversation to die down.

Eventually Booth turned away from the spot that Agent Lopez disappeared from. He caught Bones' gaze first, before realizing that everyone was looking at him.

His gaze moved quickly past the tearful, pain filled eyes of his brother, sister, Matt, Jen and his mother, lingering on those of his father whose gaze also held an obvious amount of pride as he regarded him from across the room. Distracted by movement, he saw Shelby separated slightly from the group, arms crossed and face expressionless. He tried to look her in the eye, to make sure she was okay, but she turned her gaze away.

Matt spoke first. "I didn't deserve that."

"No." Booth nodded. "You didn't."

Brennan spoke next. "I can defend myself."

"Yes you can," he paused, "but sometimes you don't have to."

Kayla emitted a shuddery sigh, "Seeley, what's going on?"

"Yeah, is anything even happening?" Jared interrupted, eyes swimming with tears that Booth had never before seen his big brother shed.

"Look, I know this is awful – this waiting part. But really, that's all we can do." He received consenting nods all around. "Mom, please go lie down."

Linda was perched awkwardly on a stool, holding her leg out in a strange fashion, attempting to keep pressure off her bandaged ankle.

"You know I can't, Seeley."

Booth sighed. It pained him to see them all like this. They were all looking at him like he was their only hope and he refused to let them down.

"Come on, Bones. Let's go make ourselves useful and help the squints run through those files." He briefly touched her shoulder and she nodded. He led the way into the dining room off the kitchen and moved Bones' laptop to a position that ensured they could easily be seen by the occupants of the kitchen.

Bones sat and booted up her computer and he slid a chair for himself up next to her. As she logged in and entered her password he kept his gaze on his family. They weren't okay. He _needed_ to make it better. He needed to fix this for them. This couldn't be how this all came to an ends.

"I'm sorry," came a whisper from his partner beside him.

He turned and her blue eyes, wide and sad, regarded him with sympathy and understanding. She hesitantly reached out and touched his arm.

He gave her as much of a smile as he could muster, which she seemed unable to return. Looking at her, away from the others, he allowed his stomach to churn, his skin to prickle, his heart to ache. He was terrified. And she knew it.

"No," he croaked, swallowing down the lump that had formed so quickly. "_I'm_ sorry." She shook her head, but he interrupted her rebuttal, "You'll never be just a squint." He let his words sink in. "Not to me."

Their gazes held for a long moment before she finally nodded.

Bowing down to impulse, he leaned in to press a lingering kiss to her cheek. If there was anything he had learned in the last few minutes, it was that there was a line that was far more important than the one that lay between them. It was the line they both stood on the same side of, fighting together, anyone or anything that dared to threaten them. Agent Lopez, a vengeful kidnapper, the world – it didn't matter. They always, _always _stood on the same side. And he vowed to never forget it again.

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**A/N: And breathe out. Wow, I forgot how great it feels to finish a chapter… If any of you are still there, please review!!! ******


	11. Wish I Could Be

**Author's Note: Okay, I PROMISE you, this has been written for a good week and a half and it has been in my beta's hands since. She's been really busy as of late, so this chapter is officially un-betaed, therefore, I apologize if there are any mistakes. I'm so thrilled to be back in the game and I was overwhelmed by the number of reviews! I'm so, so happy that you all are still with me after so long. I think that this may be one of my favourite chapters I've ever written for this story or its prequel, so I hope you enjoy! **

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Let me in  
To see you in the morning light  
To get me on and all along the tears they come  
See all come  
I want you to believe in life  
But I get the strangest feeling that you've gone away  
Will you find out who you are, too late to change?  
I wish I could be  
Every little thing you wanted  
All the time  
I wish I could be  
Every little thing you wanted  
All the time  
Sometimes

_Every Little Thing, Dishwalla_

Normally, she would have formally excused herself from the room just to be polite. Right now, though, it really didn't matter to anyone if she left. They had too much on their minds and she didn't blame them in the least. She glanced at her Uncle Seeley and Tempe in the dining room – they looked hard at work, as usual – before turning, taking the stairs two at a time to the upper level with the pretense of going to use the bathroom.

She purposely kept her gaze trained straight ahead of her. If she hadn't concentrated so hard on the task, she would have unintentionally let her eyes wonder to the photos that lined the walls on either side of the stairwell, just as she always did. They were snapshots broadcasting how wonderfully happy they were as a family. Snapshots that represented something that no longer existed – an emotion that seemed far too foreign in her mind as the word floated along in her thoughts, refusing to be smothered but her dark mood.

On her eleventh birthday, her grandparents had offered to host her party. She remembered how so many of her friends came to her with questions about the photos, that she eventually had to give a presentation to the whole group about her family, and the corresponding pictures along the walls. None of her friends could seem to comprehend how much she knew about each uncle, aunt and cousin. It was weird, they had told her, that she was so close to them – that she spent so much time with them. She shrugged it off, of course, because she was a Booth and if there was one thing that a Booth was proud of, it was the other Booths. If that made her weird, that so be it.

Those pictures along the wall were once tokens to be proud of, things to cherish. Now she couldn't even look at them. She was afraid of what would happen if she did. So instead, she kept her eyes fixed on her destination, took the steps far faster than her father would normally allow, flung herself into the bathroom and let the door click shut behind her.

She was breathing heavily as she braced herself against the bathroom counter, head bowed. That was it – breathe in, breathe out. It was odd that something so normal, so instinctual now had to be prompted. Breathe in, breathe out. Slowly, she raised her head to her reflection in the mirror. A scared, little girl is what looked back at her and she wanted to spit at it. She looked away. A scared, little girl she couldn't afford to be. The knot in her chest - the one that, for hours now, had been coiling and recoiling, tightening and releasing, over and over, seemed to have reached its limit. It was like the giant claw inside a machine of toys, controlled by a child on the outside who was lucky enough to have gained a dollar bill of their very own. It was clamped shut too tightly now. The claw had been jammed. The dollar now lost. Her knot could no longer uncoil.

She was trying to be strong. She couldn't be weak. She didn't deserve to let herself feel the pain when the pain, the _fear_ her mother felt – her father, her aunt, her uncle…her baby sisters and cousins… was surely so much worse. She needed to be the strong one. She _had_ to be.

When she raised her head to stare at her reflection once more, it was still a scared, little girl. Only it wasn't her. Maya was looking at her with her familiar disapproving glare. Shelby blinked, tears now distorting the image of her sister. Suddenly, her sister's mouth seemed to be forming words. _This is all your fault. You're the biggest sister. You're supposed to protect us. _Impossibly, the knot in her chest tightened. She let out a ragged breath. Blinking again, now through the tears she saw Maddie gazing back at her, eyes wide and frightened. _I'm scared, Shelby. You told me there were no such things as monsters_. Blinking again, it was now her two little cousins who confronted her. They didn't speak, only kept their unblinking stares on her, piercing through her heart. A sob escaped her. She blinked and she saw herself again. A scared, little girl – except now she was crying. There was something about looking at herself as she cried that made her even more sad, more scared, more hurt. And the tears flowed faster.

With a jolt of surprise, she felt the knot in her chest release suddenly, opening the flood gates and causing her knees to give. Slowly she dropped to the floor, her hands still gripping the side of the counter. Her sobs were getting too loud, they would hear her. She released the counter and allowed her body to flow gently to the ground, so that her head rested on the worn mat that lay before the bathtub. With both hands she covered the cries of anguish emitting from her lips, with the fleeting thought that they didn't even sound like hers. She was a scared, little girl. But she had to be strong.

...

The dining room where they sat had long ago been flooded with darkness. Outside, the nighttime winds rustled the trees against the windows and the full moon, when it was not obscured by large, ominous clouds, cast an eerie glow in the backyard, making the structures he knew so well seem frightening and dangerous.

He could only imagine what effect the nighttime terrors were having on those little girls.

The clock on the wall in the living room had just chimed twelve long, echoing times and the fact that no one was speaking made it all that more deafening and urgent. It was past midnight now. The girls' bus had left eight-thirty the morning before. Without them. Sixteen hours gone, without a trace. Somewhere in the back of his mind a flurry of statistics were passing through one by one.

_Speed is a factor in child safety. When abducted by a stranger children are three times more likely to be murdered. Often within the first six hours. _This man wasn't a stranger to them. They probably went willingly. Did that mean something? _One in five girls will be molested before they turn eighteen._ There was no evidence that this man was a sex offender. Only that he wanted Booth dead. This was revenge, not some twisted sexual assault. _In about 80% of abductions, the kidnapping takes place within a quarter mile of the family home._ Just two blocks away in fact. God, how could they be so stupid? _One in five children reported missing in a nonfamily abduction are found dead…_

A light clicked on in the room and both he and Bones looked up from the computer screen to see his father standing in the threshold from the kitchen, beside the light switch. He stepped into the room slowly, after holding their gazes, and walked towards them, setting two glasses of water on the table before them. Booth could only manage a small grimace in the place of a smile, while Bones whispered a quiet thank you. His father placed his hand on the back of Booth's neck and gave a small, reassuring squeeze. He leaned down to press a kiss to his furrowed forehead and turned to quietly leave the room.

"It's three quarters of the way through," Cam's voice shattered the silence and Booth visibly jumped. He'd all but forgotten that they were still on video conference with the squints. Though, granted, they were not visible on the screen of Brennan's laptop. Instead, the computer was rendering through snippets of his past – files, information and all.

Angela's face recognition software, programmed to its most detailed setting, was meticulously making its way through file after file of his contacts from the last fifteen years - for all the squints' eyes to see. A picture rested in the top left hand corner of each new screen. A name, age, nationality, job and occasionally a 'deceased' sign lay beneath the photo, with a detailed description of the subject's connection to Booth and their dealings therein. The worst part was that the death stamp, placed in a position to be just another tidbit of information, left all pretense of subtlety behind as it was clearly marked in red. Deceased. Booth was glad that Angela's technology worked so quickly, because if it didn't it would give the team ample time to read the fine print and see that, in most cases, if it had not been for him, that small red deceased stamp would not be there. Most of the dead within these files were his kills. Their blood was on his hands.

Brennan read fast, her eyes speeding through the lines of print, leaving the face recognition to her able team. She had obviously been struggling to keep her eyes away from the secrets of his life that he hadn't yet been able to share with her, but by the third profile he had reached over to place a hand on her knee and silently told her that it was okay. She had scooted closely to him in response so that their shoulders touched and their closest chair legs became tangled. And on she read.

Neither of them responded to Cam's information. Communication was not needed. He and Brennan here, Cam, Angela and Hodgins gathered tightly around their screen at the lab – they all seemed to be cocooned in an intimate shroud of understanding, of closeness, of friendship. These were the things they had known about Booth, but never spoke of. Them seeing it now, letting the information wash over them in silence, all together…in a weird way it touched him. Moved him. No one else knew of these things. He had been alone before, buried deep below these piles of secrets. They had been crushing him, pushing him down further and further with each new file added to the stack.

Now, without words, they were helping to dig him out.

All of a sudden, he felt Brennan's gaze on him. He turned and was swept up in her eyes, shimmering with unshed tears. It was the first time she looked at him since they'd sat. He shifted his expression into a question, before something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.

A stern looking man. Middle Eastern in origin. He had a protruding brow ridge, flat nose and small mouth, and his long hair was slicked back and hung limply at his shoulders. The man scowled, as though at Booth, and it was hard to even consider that he may have known how to smile.

General Raddick. Kosvo. Deceased.

Brennan was still staring at him sympathetically. This was the one secret he had ever shared, and he'd chosen to share it with her. He remembered the day well. They sat in Arlington Cemetery, there was a light breeze; he remembered how it toyed softly with her hair as she watched him bare his soul to her for the very first time. She looked at him then much as she looked at him now. Only, it was different somehow. It was like watching a memory resurfacing behind her eyes, the single moment that marked the beginning of what they now shared. It marked the start of what they came to be to each other – what _she _had come to mean to him.

He bit his lip softly, afraid that if he didn't take some sort of action against the emotion he was feeling, then he might just burst. What would come of said burst was unclear. His first thought was that he would cry, and if he started that, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop. His second inclination was to scream. Scream and throw something – something that could break so that he'd have the satisfaction of seeing it crumble, hearing it shatter. Possibly the strongest course of action, the one that seemed to push the others out of its way to take up position at the forefront of his mind, was to lean in and kiss her. It was fear of that image – the desire he had to make it a reality – that fuelled him to turn his attention back to the computer and settle simply for reaching over to touch her knee once more, telling her that he was okay.

It didn't take much, once he saw the face again, for his thoughts to get back on track. The bars of the face recognition software slid over and over the features of the man he killed. The man he killed in front of his son. Immediately Booth's eyes slid over to the details of the kill. He skimmed until he found the details of the location – an open courtyard behind one of the target's many houses. It had been decorated with yellow and green streamers and filled to the rim with red balloons. Only red. Just like the blood that was spilt. The music continued, as though nothing had happened. He remembered that little boy, dressed in his best slacks and button up shirt; his wide eyes glancing back and forth between the other adults, not comprehending at first what it was that had happened. He pushed through the crowd that had gathered around his father's wounded body – a woman, maybe his mother, had tried to keep him back but he had been relentless.

It was the scream he remembered the most. That little boy screamed to his Daddy, yelled for him to wake up. But he never did.

Hakim. That was the boy's name. He hadn't known that until now. Hakim. It had been his seventh birthday, it said. That was in 1997. Nineteen years old now. Booth wondered if the boy had survived the war. If the other people at that birthday party had sense enough to keep him safe. He wondered if the boy still blamed the unknown face who murdered his father.

Booth shook his head. He had to focus.

The birthday music played on in his head.

He briefly wondered how it would have felt if it had been _he _who had witnessed his father's murder at seven years old. Would he have grown up seeing the scene replay itself every time he closed his eyes?

He'd want revenge. War or no war. Terrorist or not. He'd kill the bastard who murdered his father.

The birthday music pounded loudly in his ears. He almost marveled at the fact that Bones, so close to him, couldn't hear it.

She was saying something to him. He didn't hear.

The birthday music continued. Laughter and merriment now mixed its way in.

He saw Bones' mouth form his name. She did it again. And again.

Her crystal blue eyes were replaced with the wide-terrified brown ones of a child.

The music was so loud now that he wanted to cover his ears. He wanted to make it go away.

Panic seized him, he blindly reached for his partner's arm and squeezed it in a grip so tight that, if he hadn't been so lost to the world, he would have noticed he was hurting her.

He heard the boy scream. He screamed again and again until it seemed like it was just part of the music.

He felt his body lurch forward. Did he do that himself or had she pulled him to her?

Someone must have turned the dial on the music because slowly, the volume began to subside. The screams began to be few and far between until he couldn't hear them at all. The laughter was the last thing to go. It echoed in his ears along with Bones' whispered words of comfort. Her hand was stroking his hair, the other clutching him into her embrace. He realized that he was shivering, but was conscious of the dampness in his hair. He buried in face in the crook of her neck and felt her pulse beating wildly against him. Her scent was a beckon of safety and he felt it wrap around him like a warm blanket. All he heard was the mingling of their heavy breaths. No more music.

He tried to speak. He _had _to speak. He needed to pull away.

"Bones -" he croaked.

"Shhhh-" she whispered back. "It's okay."

"No it's – I know who – the boy, it's the boy-" Conscious now of the tears that were flowing down his cheeks and the lump in his throat that refused to let coherent words pass, he mumbled those words over and over.

"I know," she whispered soothingly. "I understand." Her hand ceased its motion through his hair and she simply used it as leverage to pull him even closer. He felt a breath shudder through her entire body and she held him tight as the sobs overtook him.

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**A/N: GAAAH! *smiles widely* Reviews make the world go 'round! **


	12. Inside the Swirling Skies

**Author's Note: Hola! I have returned! Surprised? I am too… A brand new chapter for you all! Thanks for the reviews on the last one, if I haven't replied to you personally, I apologize. I've just begun exams, so my life is kind of insane right now… but enough excuses! Read away! **

And I'm dreaming of a place  
Where I could see your face  
And I think my brush would take me there  
But only...

If I were a painter  
And could paint a memory  
I'd climb inside the swirling skies to be with you  
I'd climb inside the skies to be with you

_Painter – Nora Jones_

It was strange to Brennan, the extent at which she felt things by simply watching her partner. She was aware that when other people, even complete strangers, were displaying pain or distress in an obvious manner, she felt something. However, Booth was able to make her feel just by glancing in her direction. She had come to terms with the fact that the two of them were very in tune with one another, but it was a whole other thing to _feel _so damn much from one human being. He frustrated her, calmed her, made her smile, made her laugh and had the ability, beyond anyone else, to cause her pain.

Her gaze was transfixed on the quick, definite strokes created by Angela as her pencil flew across her sketch pad, her ears tuned to the _scratch, scratch, scratch_ of the lead against the fiber. The sound intermingled with the sound of her own rapid heartbeat and the shallow breaths of her partner sitting next to her. She sat so close to him that the heat of his body was warming her even as her blood ran coldly through her veins and a shiver made a continuous track up and down her spine. She sat ramrod straight in her chair, an odd contrast to Booth who had pushed his out chair and was perched on the very edge as he leaned forward to bury his face in his hands at the edge of the table. He hadn't looked up in the last fifteen minutes.

"His eyes, Booth," Angela gently shattered the silence. "Tell me about his eyes."

Brennan, her senses so in tune with everything that existed in her partner at this moment, heard him swallow before clearing his throat and saying, "Wide. Innocent." He had taken to using simple one word descriptors whenever he could. "They sparkled in the sunlight."

_Scratch, scratch, scratch. _

"They were a really deep brown. Almost black," his voice was gravelly with suppressed emotion.

Angela was silent for a moment before speaking again. "Okay. I need you to tell me how you saw his eyes in relation to his face."

Booth finally looked up, slowly with an expression of pained confusion. "In relation…" he murmured questioningly.

Angela suddenly looked hesitant. "Oh, um, well maybe you didn't see him that closely…"

"No, I just…" Booth rubbed his hand roughly over his face. "I remember everything about him." He stated and Brennan wondered just how often this little boy haunted her partner's dreams. "I'm just not sure if I understand what you're asking." He sounded tired and Brennan, not for the first time, wished she could be more useful.

"Okay," Angela began tentatively and Brennan noticed out of the corner of her eye, Hodgins placing his hand on her shoulder. "I guess what I'm asking is what you saw when you looked at him. Did his eyes tell you something about him that…maybe you wouldn't have seen if you weren't looking hard enough?" When he didn't answer right away, Angela rushed to explain. "It's just that there's more to sketching someone than the simple details. Obviously, I often only have the details to work with, but these extra bits – the emotion – help to make it more real."

Brennan rarely heard the artist so unsure of herself and her work, though she supposed that Angela had never seen Booth as emotional as he was right now.

"It's okay, Ange. I understand." Booth spoke quietly, trying his best to give Angela a small, reassuring smile. He sighed, burying his face in his hands once more, before roughly running his fingers through his hair. He shifted to sit back against the chair, his eyes closed. "I'm not sure how good at this I'm going to be…" He whispered.

"All we can do is try," Angela smiled softly at him when he opened his eyes to look at her. "Give me what you got."

When Brennan looked over to Booth she was startled to find him looking curiously back at her. He appeared to be thinking hard, so she didn't interrupt to ask why. Instead, she stared back at him, wishing she could say or do something that would make this whole disaster disappear. She irrationally found herself wishing for a time machine – despite the fact that such a thing did not exist – so that they could transport themselves back to yesterday morning and stop the girls from leaving the safety of their grandparents' home.

"Do you know…" Booth spoke softly, unsurely. His eyes were still focused on her. "Do you know when you look at Bones and…and her eyes are sometimes all you see?"

That had been the last thing she was expecting. She frowned and looked to the computer for some explanation from her colleagues. However, she found them all looking at her, much in the same way Booth was. Suddenly she felt very exposed.

"I don't know what that means," she murmured, wondering for a moment if anyone was even listening.

"Keep going," Angela prompted Booth, as she drew quickly, Brennan now her new subject.

"It's just…" he shifted beside her and she wondered if he was uncomfortable. "They're big and bright and so full of… _everything_," he exhaled on the last word. "It's like they suck you in, I guess."

Brennan looked back to Angela who was nodding as she sketched furiously.

"I don't mean they look anything alike-"

Angela looked up and smiled softly. "It's okay, Booth. I understand perfectly."

Brennan felt Booth's tense body relax beside her and though she still remained confused, she was thankful that this had brought him some measure of relief.

"You know," Hodgins' voice filtered through to them. He leaned back on his stool and studied Brennan closely. "I'm no artist, but I think I see what you mean."

"Yeah," Cam agreed, trailing off, seemingly lost in her study of Brennan as well. "I see it, too."

Brennan squirmed under their gazes. "I don't," she stated uncomfortably.

Angela chuckled. "That's okay, Bren. Someday I'll explain it to you."

Brennan frowned again and looked to Booth for some kind of explanation. She found him looking at her, a soft expression on his face and she felt herself being swept up into the warmth of his eyes. Suddenly, it seemed that she may not need Angela to explain after all.

Angela continued to sketch, Booth continued to describe and Brennan continued to pretend she was paying attention. Truthfully, she was lost to the world. Headfirst she had fallen into the murky, inner-workings of her imagination and she was too scared, too curious, too _desperate_ to abandon her journey and fight her way back to the real world.

Booth had a past. A past she remained, with few exceptions, ignorant towards. When he closed his eyes, he didn't see the faces of the people he loved. He saw the faces of the people he had hurt. People he had killed.

Her imagination roamed freely concocting situations that may or may not have actually transpired. Booth wedged into a crevice, attempting to avoid detection. Booth face down in the sand, body tense with the fear that the lights of oncoming enemy vehicles would spot him. Booth shaking his friend Teddy Parker as though to wake him from slumber. Booth praying to God as he clutched the Saint Christopher's medal that hung around his neck like a lifeline. Booth. Always alone. Always scared.

Brennan allowed her eyes to fall shut, attempting with all her might to push these thoughts away. But on they came.

The boy who tormented her partner's dreams, now tormented his reality. The boy he had mourned for. The boy he took something from and had spent every moment since wishing he hadn't had to.

Booth had led a wonderful, beautiful life. It was true that his experience in the army had left with him scars that ran deep and his current posting at the FBI left a lot to be desired in the way of 'beautiful', but through all that, he had been surrounded by so much love.

It was awful to think that when it came to himself, he only saw what was wrong and never what was right.

Angela had once explained to her what it was about art that consumed her. It was the escape, she had said, from reality. It was the ability to create a reality that was not really reality at all. It was her process of making the pretend, reality, even for just as long as paint met canvas.

Brennan eventually had accepted the answer, only after weeks of mulling it over. She would never understand, but accept it she could. Born from this acceptance was a yearning to find her own escape, her own process to create a false reality.

This is when she decided to become a writer.

Presently, she watched as Angela's art, in this instance, was only creating more reality. As each stroke of her pencil brought her nearer to the face of the man who was causing so much harm, it brought Booth closer and closer to facing straight on, everything that was real and true. Everything that was his reality.

Suddenly, irrationally, still floating aimlessly in the depths of her imagination, Booth became the main character in her story. She fashioned a life for him. His appearance, his traits, his likes and dislikes all remained the same. Only his past was different. She wasn't quite sure what it was, but she knew it was better. Safer. Happier.

There was one problem. So much of what Booth did, so much of what Booth _was_, was based on motivators from his past. He fought for justice because he had seen first-hand what could result. He caught killers in penance for the kills he was forced to carry out. He was protective because he had seen the horrors of the world. He cracked jokes, wore silly socks, flashy ties and belt buckles that said 'cocky' to pretend that he was unaffected and to brighten his days.

Booth, the man she knew, could not be the man she knew if his past had unfolded in any way but the one in which it had. Suddenly the writer in her pulled out a giant eraser and rubbed out every word in her newly started story.

She was a selfish human being.

And she wanted the Booth she knew.

She shook her head. These were ridiculous, illogical musings. She couldn't _write _her partner a new past, nor could she take away the pain it caused him. She was being stupid. That was it. Stupid. Her attention had a more important state of affairs to be focused upon.

Simply to make herself useful, as Angela was still drawing, she stood and took Booth's empty water glass to the kitchen to be refilled.

As she entered the kitchen, she was immediately conscious of the motion of all eyes in the room shifting expectantly, hopefully towards her. No one made a sound. In fact, Brennan could hear every word Booth and even the squints spoke to one another. This was only more evidence of how painfully desperate they all were – they knewwhat was happening, they could hear everything that was spoken, were aware of every bit of newly uncovered information, and still a small, yearning part of them held on to the hope that her entrance into the kitchen brought with it some shred of good news.

She didn't have any, at least, not the kind they wanted.

She hovered for a moment, in the threshold, still clutching the empty glass. Her presence was no longer as important, as vital, as it had been when she had first arrived mere seconds ago. They knew now that their hope had been futile and had each returned to their individual coping techniques. Jared sat straight, gazing vacantly ahead. Jen paced. Kayla sat on the floor, head buried in her hands. Matt leaned against the threshold that led into the front hall, his arms crossed tightly, his eyes closed. Joe stood silhouetted at the picture window that looked out onto the front yard, his back to the rest. Shelby was nowhere to be seen.

Linda's were the only eyes that continued to meet Brennan's. She was worried, that much was obvious. It seemed a very trivial descriptor of her emotions, actually, given the situation. From her seat on the stool she reached her hand out and Brennan, finally being pushed into motion once more, gladly stepped into the room and grasped it tightly.

"_Okay," Angela's voice carried into the kitchen. She heaved a heavy sigh. "Here it is."_

Brennan turned sharply. She should have been in the room when the sketch was revealed to Booth for the first time. She silently reprimanded herself. Letting go of Linda's hand she quickly filled the glass up with water, straining to hear the voices from the next room over the stream.

Everyone was silent. She turned the tap off, but stood in place.

"_I-"_ _Booth's voice cracked. "Wow, Ange. You really are amazing at this…" He trailed off._

"_I'm only as good as the description I'm given," she replied softly._

_Cam's voice broke through another lengthy silence, "That looks like it could be a match."_

Apparently, they had already ran the sketch against the current picture.

"_How accurate can this be?" Hodgins asked. "I mean, there's no way we're getting a one hundred percent match from a sketch, but it has been years since you last saw him, Booth…"_

"_The question is, is this enough to go on?" Cam's question lingered in the heavy, more definitive silence that fell over the group._

Brennan turned on her heel and entered the dining room purposefully. Setting the glass of water on the table before her partner, she resumed her seat next to him. After a beat she said, avoiding eye contact with Booth, "I think we should proceed as though this evidence is concrete."

Everyone stared at her.

"This is not some stranger, this is Booth. We trust Booth."

"Dr. Brennan, this isn't a question of trust, it's a question of time. No person can keep an exact memory of a face for that long. We need to be sure-"

"_I am_." Brennan stated in a tone that left no room for argument. After a moment she said, softer this time, "Let's do this for Booth."

In a blink the squints were in a flurry of activity. Sweets had arrived while Brennan had been in the kitchen, though he had remained surprisingly silent. Hodgins was pulling him aside, supposedly to update him. Cam had pulled out her cell phone and was currently talking to her contact at the FBI, while Angela explained that they were going to pull everything they could out of the file they had and that they'd get back to them as soon as possible.

The screen clicked off.

In contrast, Brennan and Booth remained still. The whole house held an eerie silence as though they had all forgotten the simple act of speech. A painful, jagged sigh escaped Booth, but she didn't turn. Gently, she felt his hand touch her arm, slide across her back, and pull her into his embrace.

She squeezed her eyes shut and sighed knowing somehow, but wishing she didn't, that there was only more to come.

**A/N: Please, please review!**


	13. A Hand For You To Hold

**Author's Note: Why hello, all. I've missed you ever so much. Those wretched exams have snatched me away from you and prevented my, thus far, stellar improvement achieving a more frequent updating pattern. Forgive me? Thank you all for your marvelous reviews! I love that you are all still reading this story despite it's now extremely obvious contradictions to the show. To be honest, I think that's another reason for my sad updating skills. My imagination has been swept up into Booth's true back story and I'm finding it harder to retreat back to my own creation whenever the occasion calls for it. Oh well. I'm trying my very best. Thank you all for sticking with me! Enjoy…**

* * *

When there's no one else, look inside yourself

Like your oldest friend just trust the voice within

Then you'll find the strength that will guide your way

You'll learn to begin to trust the voice within

Young girl don't hide

You'll never change if you just run away

Young girl just hold tight

Soon you're gonna see your brighter day

Now in a world where innocence is quickly claimed

It's so hard to stand your ground when you're so afraid

No one reaches out a hand for you to hold

When you look outside look inside to your soul

_The Voice Within – Christina Aguilera_

_..._

Booth had left Bones alone in the dining room, conferring over the phone with Agent Lopez who, from the sounds of it, had yielded absolutely nothing thus far. Marvelous. The sun was beginning to peek out on the horizon as dawn set in. In a few short hours, they would reach the twenty-four hour mark and this was not something he felt like sitting around and waiting for. He passed the kitchen altogether, not wanting to take in the worried, disappointed faces of his family members as he failed them once again. Instead he walked into the front hall and sat down heavily at the bottom of the stairwell that led upstairs. He buried his face in his hands with a sigh and silently prayed.

A creak jolted him out of his thoughts. He immediately sprang to his feet and whirled around. Shelby stood frozen near the top of the staircase, her leg suspended in midair as though caught doing something wrong.

"Shelby," his voice was gravelly to his ears, "Sorry you just…startled me."

She nodded, her head down. "I was trying to be quiet."

"No worries. Come down, it's okay," he beckoned her with a wave and was somehow able to force a small smile upon his face.

She continued her way down, albeit cautiously, and did not meet his eyes.

He realized, somewhat suddenly, what someone should have noticed from the beginning - that she was having a hard time coming to terms with the idea that this kind of evil really did exist. Her terror and worry for her sisters, though, was probably very low on the priority list amongst the adults at the moment. Her red-rimmed eyes only added to his certainty. She was trying so hard to be strong.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs she ducked around him and made her way to the kitchen.

"Hey Shell," he called to her softly. She turned. He had wanted to ask if she was okay, maybe offer her a hug, but there was something about the solid expression on her face – how she held her jaw, the way her wide, slowly blinking eyes held nothing but strong resolve and her otherwise vacant expression was regarding him in a way that reminded him strongly of another, more grown-up woman who turned rather fierce when pushed. Instead he said, "We know who did it."

She blinked. "I thought you already knew that."

He cleared his throat. "Well we did, but now we've found out who he really is and how I…why he's doing this to us."

She stood silently staring at him for a moment before nodding and slowly turning to leave him alone.

He sighed and resumed his seat on the stairs. As he bowed his head in prayer once more, he found himself asking God for one more thing: that Shelby could somehow find it in her heart to forgive him.

…

A short while later, after returning to the dining room on Bones' request to speak with Agent Lopez, he made his way aimlessly into the living room. He was finding it extremely difficult to stay still.

When he was out of Bones' eyesight, he exhaled with a fierce _whoosh_ and ran his fingers agitatedly through his hair. He'd been right. Agent Lopez had yielded nothing from the parents of the other girls who had safely made it off to his nieces' dance camp. In all honesty, he hadn't expected much. Most had said they saw the four girls down the street making their way to the bus and some had even seen the man who had stopped to talk to them, of course, thinking nothing of it as the girls had greeted him with such enthusiasm. That gave them nothing more than they already knew.

"Hey big brother," came a soft, strangled voice from across the room. Nestled tightly in the corner of the window seat, half leaning against the large picture window that looked onto the front yard, he saw the tear-streaked face of his little sister.

Feeling even more defeated, he let out a jagged breath as her name tumbled from his lips sounding like an odd combination of a desperate plea and a strong, infallible determination. He remained where he stood several feet away from her, unsure if his presence any closer would be accepted.

His heart, though he hadn't believed it was possible, filled with an even deeper, more powerful sorrow as she half-heartedly attempted to choke back a sob. With her knees pulled up tightly to her chest, she allowed her forehead to rest against them as she tried to gain composure.

For once in his life, he hadn't the faintest idea what to say or do. So instead, he remained awkwardly in the centre of the room, as every part of his mind, body and soul begged him to go to her and provide as much comfort as he could. But he didn't, because he wasn't all that sure she wouldn't smack him across the face. He deserved it though. Maybe that's what he could do for his sister at the moment…let her.

Kayla looked up, her lips pressed tightly together, eyes filled with unshed tears. Slowly she extended her arm, her fingers unclenching from the fist she'd had them locked in, and held her hand out to him.

He barely registered the intent behind her actions before he was surprised to find himself already at her side, hand in hers, as he sat hesitantly down in front of her on the window's ledge.

It was a long time before she spoke and he simply watched her closely, racking his normally intuitive brain for something – _anything_ – he could say to her to lessen her pain, however slightly.

"The man – " She seemed to choke on the word as though it caused her physical pain. He was sure it probably did. "He hasn't called back yet…" She trailed off, not meeting his eyes but instead looking down at their joined hands.

"No." Booth was able to force the word out, his voice far beyond the point of being recognizable.

"What does that mean?" When she suddenly looked up with such hope in him and everything he was – in his ability to make everything go away – he felt sure that he was going to be sick. What could he possibly tell her?

"I – Kayla…"

"I was thinking," she pushed on, a glimmer of optimism lighting up her otherwise grim expression, "maybe that means he knows that you know and is too worried to call – maybe that means he's thinking of giving in…" She trailed off somewhat pathetically as he slowly shook his head. "No…"

"Kayla," his voice broke, "I – I don't think that's what's going on…I think…I think that he never expected Matt to keep this from any of us. He was probably hoping that I'd find out… probably bargaining on the incident to drive a wedge in the family…to make it even harder."

"Oh." Her voice was small and weak. A small, barely there smile spread across her lips and she regarded him sadly. "I guess he didn't realize that no wedge could ever divide us."

He let out one, soft chuckle and ached at how wrong it sounded. "Yeah."

"Never." This time, it was Jared who spoke, having entered the room unbeknownst to the others.

Booth looked over his shoulder, meeting his brother's eyes. He had to clench his jaw to prevent the onslaught of emotion that bubbled to the surface as he took in his broken expression. There was something in his eyes though, something that Kayla, at the moment, was lacking.

Fire. A fire whose flames were leaping with such ferocity that Booth felt a small, burgeoning of pure hope. Hope he hadn't realized he had lost. It was a fire that burned and crackled with the air of an oncoming fight. A fight that they would win.

Jared took sure, solid footsteps towards them. He pulled up the nearby ottoman and sat facing them. "_This_," he said with such conviction that it rocked Booth to the core, "_is not over._"

Beside him, Kayla erupted into a fit of sobs once more, but tried her best to cover them with a hand over her mouth. Booth gently placed his arm around her, "Jared's right, Kay. This isn't over yet. We'll find them."

His sister jerked away so suddenly that he was sure his heart stopped.

She regarded him fiercely. "That's easy for you to say when you're baby is safely tucked in his bed!"

Her words pierced him like daggers and with each passing second of silence, the echo of her voice pushed them in deeper and deeper, until he wondered if he'd ever have a hope of removing them.

It was true. He confirmed it for the umpteenth time not one half hour ago. Parker was indeed, safely tucked in his bed at this very moment. Or, he thought briefly, probably waking his mother up far too early than she approved of in his eagerness to start the day. He would continue to be safe, too. The agents he had watching the house would see to that.

"I-"

"Have you ever heard of Howard Epps?" Bones jarred him out of his present state of speechlessness. He turned and saw that she stood in the threshold of the dining room, her arms crossed and her expression fierce.

"Bones!" He hissed and gave her an expression that even she could decode as 'now is not the time'.

She ignored him and repeated, "Howard Epps?"

Kayla looked bewildered. "I-"

"I'm sure you've heard of him. He specialized in murdering blonde, teenage girls and broke out of prison a couple of years ago." She was phrasing her words so they sounded like she was making an effort to simply remind Kayla of the incidents. It may have worked if they weren't bogged down with heavy condescension. "Well, once he was free he made it his personal vendetta to attack everything that Booth and I cared about. He'd already sent my best friend a human heart and cut off his own wife's head and left it for us to find when we realized that he was going after Parker."

Booth had been momentarily frozen in shock, but when Jared buried his face in his hands and cursed under his breath, he was thrust back into the present. "Bones will you -" he rose to his feet, but she thundered on.

"So no, Kayla, your brother hasn't experienced what you are experiencing, but that doesn't mean that he hasn't felt that kind of terror. And -"

"_Bones!_" She turned abruptly to him, her chest heaving with her fury. "Stop." His voice shook as he said the word. "Stop."

She could see the hesitation in her eyes, but she continued, her voice having lost some of its confidence. "I don't care what's happening to her, Booth. That was an awful thing for her to say – " She interrupted him before he had a chance to stop her again. "And if you weren't sitting with her right now, I would _hit_ her."

Emotions were definitely running high. Booth knew that Brennan was protective of him, but also knew that she would never hit his sister for whatever reason. So instead of yelling or trying to reason with her, he simply stood, walked towards her, grasped her by the shoulders and gently walked her out of the room. She tried to argue with him, tried to convince him that he should be angry at Kayla, pushed him hard against the chest and questioned why in the world he was so calm.

He said nothing. Before turning back into the living room though, he pulled her close and pressed his lips to her forehead. And then she was quiet, too.

…

The door suddenly swung open and all four of them jumped. The rising sun was sending in the morning light through the dirty window, lighting the man's aggravated expression. His hair stood up in every direction as though he'd been running his fingers through it for hours on end.

"Breakfast," was all he said, and after tossing an unopened box of cereal at them, he was gone.

Hannah let out the breath she'd become accustomed to holding whenever he entered the room. She gently pulled her whimpering sister closer to her and shifted impossibly closer to her cousins. She was so glad that it was daytime again. She had never realized that the night was so long. It was the first time in her whole life that she hadn't gone to bed. The others had slept off and on, while she remained a constant vigil. _Why had nobody come for them yet?_

"Hannah," her sister whispered, the word coming out in a whine that their mother may have scolded her for. "I'm really, _really_ hungry."

Hannah sighed. "I know Kelsey. I'm just – worried that maybe we shouldn't eat what Aariz is giving us. Just in case."

"Do you think it's poisoned?" Maya had not been speaking at all since she'd accepted that they were in trouble, and finally turned to look Hannah in the eyes. Swimming amongst the question and the unshed tears was an acceptance. She took that to mean that Maya was handing her over the reins, allowing Hannah to take charge of the situation even though she, Maya, was actually the oldest. It was the first time that had ever happened.

Hannah wished it hadn't.

"I'm- I don't know. Maybe." The others looked up at her, as though surprised she didn't have all the answers. Hannah suddenly wished, for the time ever, that she had been born the youngest so that she could be the one burrowed into someone's side, trusting that she would be looked after instead of being the one in charge.

She sighed. "You guys remember how our moms and dads check all of our Halloween candy before we can eat it?"

They nodded.

"Well they aren't here to check the cereal or the snacks he gave us, so we can't eat them."

No one said anything in response, but instead they all sat in a sad, hollow silence.

Hannah felt the familiar tightening in the back of her throat. Somehow, though she rarely cried – crying was for _babies_ – the feeling remained easily recognized. Kind of like how she always remembered exactly how to ride her bike even when the long months of winter had kept it locked away in the shed.

She had cried a lot while the others had slept. Quietly, of course. It embarrassed her to cry. She didn't like people her treating her like a baby. "My little thirty-year-old," her mother always cooed whenever she hurt herself and held back her tears or shrugged it off when she didn't get her way instead of making a scene. Hannah remembered when Kelsey was born and the years that had followed. She was sure the she herself hadn't cried even _close _to as much in her whole life as her sister did in a week. Hannah was always in awe every time Kelsey's crocodile tears surfaced again, because each time she accepted that there was no way there were enough left inside her to cry again. Their mom's name for Kelsey was drama queen.

Thinking of her mom was not helping to keep the tears at bay. What would she want Hannah to do? She closed her eyes really tight and tried to picture her mother's smiling face. She tried to hear her voice. But nothing came. She was too worked up, too emotional, too scared. It was true, she liked to act grown up, but she wasn't _actually_ a grown up. She had long ago refused to hold her mother's hand as they crossed a busy street, choosing instead to remain as close to her side as she could, but essentially walking herself.

Now, all she wanted was that hand to hold. That hand to guide her in the direction she was supposed to take. She was in charge of three other human beings. It seemed really silly to her now that just a few days ago she had attempted to calmly explain to her mother that she was responsible enough to babysit Kelsey on her own, even though she was only eight.

Swallowing hard, she forced her emotions back down. She was in charge. It was her responsibility to get them out of this. She had to think.

Her mind began working a mile a minute, shuffling through possibility after possibility as the others remained quiet. Aariz didn't seem like he was going to let them out so…maybe they had to try and get out on their own.

But how? It seemed like such a silly idea. He was too big for them to try and fight. For a moment, her imagination took off and she imagined that they had superpowers like the characters on TV. It would be so much easier if they could become invisible or walk through walls or break through windows…

Immediately she was on her feet and making her way to the window. Earlier she had contemplated climbing the wall, but that had been futile. Now, with the others awake…maybe at least _one _of them could reach.

"Guys, come here," she beckoned them excitedly. "Someone get on my shoulders."

…

It seemed that he was not accomplishing a thing. He had received no calls or had the pleasure of any visits. He tried very hard to make himself believe that this was due to the incompetence of Seeley Booth and his people, and not due to his own age and inexperience.

He was a patient man. He could wait.

However, he _had _told Matt Bennett that he would be in touch. Yes. Maybe another phone call was in order.

He rose slowly, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His reflection always seemed to appear much younger than he thought himself to be. He had witnessed too much to be still considered a child. He had lost the freedom of innocence at seven years old.

The young girls locked in the room of his basement – they were about the same age. He would see to it that the same would happen to them. Innocence was easily corrupted. It had been years and yet he remembered exactly how it had felt. Anger boiled through his veins and he clenched his hands into fists at his side. Turning swiftly, he'd exited the room and stormed towards the basement.

Yes, he had a very good memory. And he would never forget.

…

"Oh no…I'm gonna…" As soon as the teetering had reached the point of no return, all four girls – including Maya who wasn't a part of their human pyramid – covered their mouths to muffle their screams as the three of them tumbled to the ground.

"Ouch," Maddie, who had been standing on Hannah's shoulders while attempting to pick Kelsey up from Maya's arms and raise her to the window, whimpered quietly. She scrambled quickly off of Hannah, taking Kelsey with her. "Hannah – I'm sorry, I thought I had her…are you okay?"

Hannah nodded mutely. She wasn't. She caught the rip in her shirt at her elbow out of the corner of her eye, and the blood that seeped through, but didn't want to draw attention to it. She hopped to her feet with false enthusiasm, ignoring how much her back, which had taken the brunt of all three of their falls, hurt as she moved. "Let's try again."

"Hannah…" Maya said tentatively. "This isn't working. Maybe -"

"No Maya," Hannah interrupted. "We need you to try and keep us balanced because you're the tallest."

"Well maybe if I tried to lift you and you tried to lift Kelsey we could stay steady and be tall enough to reach the window."

Hannah did not like the idea of Maya being the base. It made the risk of her getting hurt even higher. It was true though, even if they did manage to keep Maddie balanced in the middle, they probably wouldn't be tall enough to escape. But then again, she didn't have a plan to follow if they _did _reach the window. Kelsey would be at the top and therefore, the only one who could get outside and there was _no_ way Hannah was letting her sister go alone.

They all stood quietly, Hannah thinking, the others waiting for her instructions. When the door burst open again they all started and let out gasps of surprise.

Aariz froze and Hannah felt panic surge through her. The blanket where he had left them was across the room. "What are you girls doing over there?"

"Playing," Hannah answered automatically, proud at how convincing she sounded. She discreetly hid her bleeding arm behind her back.

"Why?"

"We're bored." This time, it was Maya who answered. Hannah felt a rush of gratitude because she hadn't thought up an answer to that one.

"Hannah, come with me."

She was so grateful that he seemed to accept their lie that it took her a moment to realize what he had said instead. Her spine stiffened. She couldn't leave the others alone.

"Why?" It came out harsher than she intended it to and she had to fight the urge to recoil at his eyes narrowed.

"Just do what I tell you," he held his hand out to her. "Come now."

Hannah took a deep breath. "No." She heard the other girls gasp behind her. "I think you should let us go."

This seemed to infuriate him, for he was now marching towards her and it took all her self-control to stand her ground. He grabbed her injured arm, but she bit back a sob. "You're going to go to jail!"

He froze in his efforts to drag her out of the room. At first, she felt a rush of victory, wondering if maybe he hadn't thought of that possibility and would now reconsider. Instead, he slowly removed his hand from her arm and gazed upon the blood that coated his fingers.

This was her moment. She pulled her leg back and with all the force she could muster she kicked him hard in the shin and yelled at the others to run.

They were nearing the door and her chest felt like it might burst with elation at the thought of a safe escape. But they were too slow, and he was too fast. A hand reached out from behind them and slammed the door shut.

For some reason it shocked her, though it probably shouldn't have, when he yanked on the hood of her sweater and pulled her down to the ground. She fell hard and her already sore back throbbed in protest. She hadn't expected him to hurt her. He was a bad man. He was keeping them locked in a room and wouldn't let them leave. She _knew _he was a bad man. The second she hit the cement floor, her bloody elbow cracking painfully against the solid surface, she felt like the wind was knocked out of her – in more ways than one. She'd seen movies, she watched TV and she knew Aariz had kidnapped them, but she never thought for one second that he would actually hurt her. Or even if she had, she was certain that nothing compared to the feeling she was experiencing now.

People hurt other people. That was why there were policemen and doctors and paramedics. She had already known this, but now she _knew. _Firsthand.

Tears stung her eyes but she blinked them back. He was approaching her, a terrifying expression on his face. She propelled herself backward, scooting across the floor on her bottom, her eyes locked up against his, until she was surprised to find the blanket that lay crumpled in the corner.

He held her eyes and Hannah was sure she had never felt so scared in her entire life. Not that time when the power went out and Hannah had been too proud to wake the sleeping babysitter. Not that time when she and her mom thought that they'd lost Kelsey in the grocery store, only to find her hiding under a table of fruit eating a stolen bag of grapes. Not even earlier as the other girls slept, while she contemplated whether they'd spend the rest of their lives in that same room.

Suddenly he whipped his body around to, Hannah could only assume, direct his terrifying gaze at the others who hastily joined Hannah on the blanket, petrified.

"You," he pointed at Hannah, his finger feeling like a stab to her chest even from a distance, "have no idea what you have done. _Everything_ that happens now will be your fault."

His words pierced her, engulfed her, etched themselves onto her soul.

She didn't see him leave. She barely registered the sounds of the others sobbing at her sides. Her terror, her guilt, her waning strength formed a tense mass of emotion that bubbled right beneath the surface. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she hid her face against her knees as her body quaked with everything she forced herself to repress.

She was the protector, and she would not cry.

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**A/N: Funny story: as I wrote 'cement floor' a voice inside my head said "Concrete. Cement is an ingredient in concrete." Care to take a guess at whom that voice belonged to? Anyhoo, thanks for reading and please, please press that little review button to tell me what you think! I'm finding that so far in this story, Hannah's POV is my favourite to write from. I'm really enjoying her. I'd love to hear your thoughts!**


	14. A Soldier Says He's Not Afraid to Die

**Author's Note: Hello!!! Yup, it's me again. Feel free to throw things. After all those broken promises, after making you believe I had changed… I won't even make an excuse this time. Let's face it. We're beyond that point now. It's been too long… **

…**Wait! Okay. Just one little excuse. My best girl ****Norah Pearly-Gates**** and I have teamed up to provide the Bones fandom with a fabulous new story. That's where I've been! I promise this time! And I've learned from this particular **_**Now That You're Here **_**experience that I cannot be trusted to continually write chapters to be posted. SO, we've been writing since the finale to ensure that the entire story is FINISHED before we post it. (The story we're writing together, not this one – sheesh, what do you want from me!?) Anyway, the story will be called **_**The Moderation of Joy**_** and will be written under the penname ****SubtleMomentsofJoy****. (Yes, that's a lot of joys – maybe a theme perhaps?) So please, please do check us out. And before you write it off all together, keep in mind that there will be CONSTANT updates because it will be completed at first post. As for a little summary, the story will play off the idea of Booth and Brennan going through with having a baby. An overused topic, you say? Think again! (Okay, so it is a bit overdone…) Our story holds a bit of a twist. It's rather unique, if I do say so myself. So please watch out for it. It's the longest, most intricate thing either of us have ever tackled…it's a beast of a story, let me tell you. Okay, now I'm done promoting… Wait! One more thing! Go check out my lady Norah. She's got a couple of one-shots for our fandom, you'll love her! Okay done now…**

…**Anyway, I'm not making any promises on when the next chapter will be up. Let's face it, we've been down that road, yes? So instead, I will thank you again for being such faithful readers and sticking with me on this ridiculously long, rocky journey. (Want to know how awful I am? I wrote most of this chapter back in May. MAY!) I'll stop rambling now… I do hope you enjoy this chapter. Lord knows you've waited long enough. You may need a little refresher since it's been so long…glance over the last few chapters, just in case. This scene is kind of pivotal… Love you all!**

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I've got this feeling that there's something that I missed

(I could do most anything to you...)

Don't you breathe

Something happened, that I never understood

You can't leave

Every second, dripping off my fingertips

Wage your war

Another soldier, says he's not afraid to die

Well I am scared

In slow motion, the blast is beautiful

Doors slam shut

A clock is ticking, but it's hidden far away

Safe and sound

_Somewhere a Clock is Ticking – Snow Patrol_

Of course the elevator wasn't working. It was just a cherry on top of a perfect day. Well, night really. Agent Lopez turned, and with tired limbs, pushed the door open leading to the stairwell. Nine floors. Awesome.

As she dragged herself up step after never-ending step, her mind zeroed in on the happy faces of those four little girls. That's all she'd ever seen of them – pictures of their smiling, youthful faces. To be honest, she preferred to focus on these instead of allowing her wayward mind to conjure up images of them scared or in pain or, god forbid, sexually abused. As much as she didn't want to allow herself to believe it, she'd seen too much. She'd been working for the Kidnapping and Missing Persons' branch of the FBI for ten years now. She wished she could say that sexual abuse was uncommon in non-familial abductions, but she couldn't lie even to herself. What worried her most, was that ransom didn't play a factor in this one, which suggested that all the bastard wanted to do what make them suffer.

_Well congrats, bucko. You've accomplished that._

What was worse was that this Agent Booth knew all that she did. Granted, he worked homicide, not kidnapping, but that probably meant that he understood far better than she ever could. It was he who saw what happened when the kidnapping experts failed. It was he who crushed what little hope remained in their loved ones, it was he who had to unveil the ugly truths and recreate what really occurred. He didn't have to imagine, like she did. He saw the result.

Agent Booth knew the statistics, he knew the odds. He also knew that the odds were against them. And still, he fought. Hell, she'd just gotten off the phone with him for the…she'd lost count of the amount of times she'd spoken with him in the last twelve hours. Too many.

It made it worse. Looking at the family of the children – namely him – and knowing that he knew what she did. She couldn't lie to him to soften the blow. He'd suffer greater than even the parents of these kids, if they didn't get them back. Because he _knew_.

She'd heard of Agent Booth before today. His partnership with the bone doctor was something of a legend in the FBI. Their success rate was beyond words. No one could touch them. They were the very best. It was easily recognizable in their efficiency today, even if it was greatly distorted by their proximity to the case, to the people involved.

It had only taken a couple of hours before she'd received the call that they'd identified the kidnapper based on some fancy facial recognition software, with the help of a bunch of squints. It made her wonder just how much they were capable of if they were able to truly put their heads in the game.

It was true; she should have been nicer to this Dr. Brennan, but it was just so damn hard to put stock in the capabilities of an egghead who had barely seen the light of day. She'd give this one to her though – it _was _her idea to run Agent Booth's contacts against the picture they had of the perp. Yeah, she could give this one to her.

Finally, she reached the top landing. The ninth floor. She felt like she just may fall over – that's all she wanted to do in this moment. The faces of the four girls surfaced again and she was given the incentive to push forward. She'd just grab a quick bite to eat, change her clothes, and head over to the Booth home.

She had to hand it to this kid, this Aariz El-Gendy – or Hakim Raddick, whichever – he may be a bit sloppy, a bit inexperienced in the whole kidnapping scene, but he was pretty damned good at making himself invisible. Matt Bennett, Agent Booth's brother-in-law, had been something of a friend to this kid. He looked after him, as far as she could tell, and tried to make his transition into life in America easier. According to Matt – which of course, she'd heard through Agent Booth as she had been forbidden to question him – Aariz had lived in the area, though Matt himself had never been to his apartment. The kicker was that no apartment had been rented out to either his recently uncovered identity or the alias that Matt knew him by, in the entire city of Philadelphia. She'd had a dozen agents working on finding his place of residence all night. Nothing.

As she blurrily attempted to unlock her door, her mind on other things, she tried to convince herself that he was indeed 'sloppy and inexperienced', even though he'd still managed to keep just out of their reach, thus far. The kid was only nineteen, surely his immaturity would lead to impatience and carelessness. Yes, she smiled to herself, that's when she'd nab him.

Closing the door behind her as she entered into her apartment, she dropped her coat and keys onto a nearby chair and slipped her shoes off. She practically limped across the room to the kitchen and just as she was thinking, _no high heels today_, she caught sight of him in her peripheral vision. Before she could even make a sound the butt of his gun was colliding with the side of her head and she was collapsing to the floor.

…

"What's he doing?" It was Jen's voice that broke through Brennan's thoughts as she watched her partner from the front window in the kitchen. He was rummaging through his supply kit in the back of his SUV out in the driveway.

Brennan turned, her arms crossed tightly around herself, and was surprised to see that everyone in the kitchen had been watching Booth, too. "I -" She paused, pursing her lips. She had been about to say that she didn't know, but the eyes watching her seemed so trusting and dependent on her connection with their – their hope – the man who they trusted, with no shadow of doubt, to fix this mess for them. Still, she hated to lie. "Something…important," she told them instead.

She turned back to see that Booth was jumping out of the back of his truck, slamming the door and making his way inside.

It wasn't like the feeling was new to her – the helplessness that came with having absolutely no idea how to console him in his misery – but she knew that this situation was far worse than anything they'd tackled before. It, as Booth would say, hit too close to home. Though, it would probably be more accurate to say that it _hit _home, for that's exactly what it did.

As she watched him walk up the front path, she thought of the faces of the people standing behind her. How horrible it must be to be Booth in this situation. He _hated_ letting people down. He simply would not, could not, let it happen. There was an eerie nonchalance in the atmosphere of this home – they were worried, of course, she'd even go as far as to say they were terrified – yet it was almost as though they knew, knew it deep down, that they didn't actually need to waste their energy on worry. It was merely an unconscious reaction to their current situation – something that couldn't be helped. They seemed to think – no, _they were certain_ – that it was only a matter of time before Booth would pull through for them. It was only a matter of time before Booth would save the day.

Their faith was absolute.

Yes, being Booth in this circumstance must be gut-wrenchingly impossible.

Even Kayla's outburst earlier seemed something of an unconscious response brought on by unfounded hysteria. Kayla had the faith, too. She just couldn't help it. Something in her body, in her mind had prompted her to lash out – a mother's prime instinct was to protect her young, to fight – but Brennan had seen her after the outburst. She'd sobbed and apologized and told Booth – actually _told _Booth – that she knewhe'd find them.

It was a painful paradox. Brennan _wanted_ Booth's family to have this kind of faith in him. She herself, no matter how often she denounced the logicality of faith, had an unshakeable faith in her partner. At the same time though, she found herself wishing they'd be more subtle about it, less obvious. Less absolute. Booth was being pulled apart at the seams. Not just the lack of, but the actual _absence _of leads, and the limited resources and clearance allotted to him were just about driving him mad. But to top it off, the entire prospect of his family's future happiness, of their future sanity, weighed down on Booth's shoulders and his shoulders only. What was worse was that the rest of them, they were allowing it to happen. They were letting him carry each and every one of them through this nightmare and they were still expecting him to pull through for them.

She wished that she could knock some sense into them, but that would just be another burden that Booth would feel he needed to bear. She supposed, if she were honest with herself, she really couldn't imagine what they were going through – despite how close she was to them – she wasn't a parent and, therefore, couldn't possibly feel their pain.

Honest or not, she still wanted to hit them. Maybe she'd always be biased where her partner was concerned.

Slowly she walked towards the front hall, leaning against the threshold that separated the kitchen, and watched him enter the house. He was distracted, clicking buttons on what looked to be a fancy palm pilot of some sort.

"What's that?"

He looked up at her, caught off guard by her presence. That worried her. "Oh, uh, just an idea. I'll let you know if I can get it to work." He stuffed it into his back pocket. It wasn't until he did that she noticed what was in his other hand.

"Bones…" He invaded her personal space, speaking quietly. "Take this." He handed her a loaded gun, the same as he carried, but his own was holstered at his side.

"Why?" She whispered, taking it anyway.

"Just…" He shook his head, seeming at a loss for words.

"Booth," she insisted.

"I just…I feel like you should have it."

Without another word, she tucked the gun into her jeans at her back and covered it with her top. It had been a long time since she truly questioned one of his _feelings_, and today they really couldn't afford to waste any time with an interlude of senseless bickering.

He gave as much a smile as he seemed able to muster, retrieved the device from his back pocket and disappeared behind the door that led down to the rec room.

Turning back into the kitchen, she was met with wary eyes. So they'd seen the exchange. They were more worried. Good. Now maybe they'd be more reasonable.

…

At least a half an hour had passed when the knock came. It wasn't until it did, that Brennan realized that Agent Lopez was later than she said she'd be. It irked her. Booth was always punctual. Always. Glancing out the front window she saw that it was indeed Agent Lopez's vehicle in the driveway. Rolling her eyes she rushed to answer the door before anyone else could react. It would be easier to give the agent a piece of her mind without anyone else there in witness.

When she swung the door open she was promptly greeted with a blow to the chest and she found herself being propelled across the room until her back collided with the opposite wall. It only took a second for the disorientation to fade before she was reaching for the gun at her back while simultaneously fighting her unknown attacker. Her hand clamped down on his wrist, holding it high in the air, keeping the gun he held pointed up and away from her. She exerted as much force as she could with her upper body to push herself off of the wall.

Unfortunately, though at the present moment she didn't really have time to pick a proper location to execute this fight, she had thrown him in the direction of the kitchen – right to the very place where they'd have the biggest audience. Harsh gasps and terrified screams filled the room, as the Booths were introduced to the unplanned turn of events.

Immediately he was on her again, pushing her back towards the far wall, battling with her unfailing attempt to keep his gun away. Suddenly though, catching her off guard, he pulled away, causing her tense form to fall towards him and her own gun – now free from its makeshift holster – to clatter to the ground. She dodged the punch he threw in her direction by falling into a roll, retrieving her gun in the process. When she stood, allowing herself to feel a small bit of victory at her success, and pointed her gun straight at her attackers face, her heart dropped like a massive brick.

He snickered cruelly, his own gun pointed in the direction she least hoped it would – her partner's family. "Drop it."

There was no choice. There was not one alternative to shuffle through. Immediately, she released her own weapon, allowing it to clatter loudly to the floor. Slowly, she raised her hands in surrender.

"That is what is wrong with people like you," he smirked in triumph. "Law enforcers. Heroes," his voice rolled lazily over the words as he moved to stand before her. "You are always too busy saving everyone else," he raised a strong hand to her shoulder and shoved her roughly against the wall. Someone gasped off to her side. "You would be stronger if you remembered to save yourself."

"And you'd be more human if you cared enough to put others first," she retorted coolly.

He ignored her. "Where is he?"

"He's not here," she stated calmly, despite the barrel of the gun he now had digging painfully against the side of her head.

She watched as fury seemed to pulse through him and then, after a moment, it disappeared. He smiled.

"Dr. Brennan," he stated with false warmth, sending a shiver down her spine. He looked at her closely for a long moment and it took everything she had not to flinch at his stare, react to the foul stench of sweat rolling off of him and to withstand the urge to beat his body to the ground. "He's really got you…hasn't he?" His spoke slowly, reveling in the ability to make every person in the room hold on to his every word.

She said nothing.

"You think he is a hero…" he stated, incredulity coating his soft tone. "And they told me you were smart," he finished with a condescending smirk.

"Booth _is_ a hero," she spat at him, losing the battle to keep calm.

A look crossed his face and for one horrible moment, the arrogance painted across his features paired with the patronizing gleam in his eye reminded her of Howard Epps. "He killed my father you know…" His words were laced with something akin to a childish whine. "I was just a boy…"

"Your _father_ was a murder. He wiped out entire villages." Pushing herself of the wall, she stepped impossibly closer to the man before hissing, "He was a terrorist and Booth was a soldier."

"Hmm," he cooed, eyes narrowing. "So tell me, _Dr. _Brennan…why is it that my father is required to pay for his sins, but yours is able to walk free?"

She inhaled sharply, her normally quick retorts failing her. How did he...?

Confusion, pain, _guilt_ seeped through her. It was true. She'd lost count of how many times she thought it herself…but, it wasn't the same thing. It wasn't even close. Booth would be upset with her for even thinking it…

Just as the thought of her partner crossed her mind, his body filled the threshold into the kitchen, still and silent. She didn't acknowledge his presence, but she knew that Booth had noticed the subtle shift in her demeanor from over the shoulder of her captor, the moment she realized he was there.

…

He was a Ranger. Silent. Cautious. In control. He took slow, steady steps forward. Out of the corner of his eye – because he saw all, heard all, knew all – his family reacted to his arrival. It was in their expressions, in the relief that sagged through their bodies. Fortunately for them, Bones was better at being neutral, and she currently had the bastard's full attention. The man's back was to him, a gun firmly clenched in his hand, the barrel digging into Bones' temple.

"Ah," the man cooed. "I have – as you Americans call it – struck a nerve, yes?"

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Bones told him flatly, appearing much less calm and unaffected than Booth knew she was.

"Is that what your partner told you? That your father was a good man? Huh," he mused and Booth could practically see the superiority, hatred and thirst for revenge coming off him in waves. "Maybe that is because they are so similar. They kill and call it justice…"

"No," Bones quietly retorted, "They kill in the name of humanity. They kill to make it so that innocent people can live their lives without fear."

He appeared to ignore her comment and said, "Tell me where your partner is and I will leave everyone unharmed."

"He's not here," she emphasized each word, her voice brimming with anger.

"You're stronger than I expected," he said next, ignoring her once more.

In a sudden burst of movement, Bones' eyes flew to his – they locked gazes, forming a plan without words in the span of half a second. "People often underestimate me," she stated casually, immediately her throwing her arm out to the side, her elbow colliding sharply with the side of the man's head.

Booth caught him as he faltered, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and throwing him with ease against the wall Bones had just been pushed up against. "Nice shot, Bones."

"Thanks," she said as she retrieved her gun from the floor and knocked the gun out of the hand of the man he had in his arms.

No, boy. He wasn't a man. Nineteen, the file had said. The kid was only nineteen.

Booth stared into the eyes of the boy who haunted his dreams. The boy he had cried over, more times than he can remember, in the dark of night, alone in his bed. He'd lost count of the amount of times he'd asked for forgiveness over this child, had said the Lord's Prayer and Hail Mary over and over until he was too exhausted to continue. Often, he'd close his eyes to see these wide, brown eyes staring back at him, even when nothing in his day would trigger the memory. It would appear unbidden. He couldn't escape.

Except now, now those eyes were really staring back. The boy was here, before him. The blood that Booth had believed would stain the child's skin forever had been washed clean, even when the blood on his own hands would always remain. Guilt and hatred melded so flawlessly within him, that he almost forgot why he was there in the first place. It was a sob from someone off to his side that brought him back.

This child was no longer innocent.

"Agent Booth," he stated softly, his accent thick.

Booth said nothing, he simply stared. There was a shade of victory unraveling in the depths of the kid's eyes as the soft whimpers and uneven breaths of his terrified family began to seep into fill the eerie silence.

He felt the heat of Bones' body as she took a reassuring step closer to him. She remained quiet.

"It's a shame…" he breathed, the corners of his mouth turning up in triumph, "Your family seems devastated."

The air shifted behind him, signaling movement in his partner. Immediately the room was quiet again, the anguish now only discernable by the thick atmosphere that had settled over all its occupants. Bones must have thrown his family a look that brought them to silence.

Those little girls. That was all that mattered now. The kid had willingly walked through the front door. He was safe. The outcome was secure. He held too much leverage. He was set to win and he knew it.

"Tell me what you want," Booth's voice was hollow and defeated. Bones stiffened behind him even before the words had fully left his lips.

Those brown eyes widened with something approaching glee and some perverse, guilt-ridden, _sick_ part of Booth was almost relieved. Twelve years ago he'd ruined this child's life. He'd forced him down into a sea of pain, suffering and maybe even madness. He himself had sealed this boy's fate when he was only seven years old. He looked almost happy now…

Warmth seeped through his shirt as Bones placed a hand on his back. She was being unusually quiet given the circumstances. Her fingers dug in slightly, grasping at the thin fabric. She was worried, but there was nothing neither of them could do. Not now.

"I want you dead," he stated with confidence. He held all the cards.

The silence continued to blanket the room, as loud as it was quiet. The words ran a continuous track, playing over and over and over. They were not unexpected, but he felt the tension wafting off every single person in the room as they teetered on the edge of despair, waiting for his reply.

Her hand on his back tightened into a fist.

"Done," he said lowly; not a trace of a tremor in his tone, no waver in his gaze. He lowered his gun and stepped away.

Reaction finally burst through the room. A sob of protest came from his mother. Jared cursed, "Seeley, what the hell are you doing?" He felt Bones shift behind him again and anticipated her action to silence their protest. However, it was his father's voice that came first.

"Quiet." It was all he said. His tone was not raised, he voice was not harsh. But everyone heeded to the command.

The kid's eyes darkened. "FBI," he stated simply. "Fidelity. Bravery. Integrity." A smile spread across his face. "You are willing to die for those children."

Booth said nothing, but it seemed that was confirmation enough.

Patronization coated his features. "You are foolish."

"Take me to them," Booth said. "Now."

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**A/N: Ooooh. A bit of a short one, I suppose. Hope it made up somewhat for my ridiculously unreliable updating skills. Let me know what you think! Oh – and what story are you watching out for? (readers give a chorus of **_**The Moderation of Joy**_**) Yes! Exactly! That is the one. I'm so impressed that you remembered!**


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